tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12099626961801401402024-03-05T23:37:35.776-08:00Tales from a High Voltage HousewifeHigh Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-11519690951446878502012-09-11T18:24:00.000-07:002012-09-11T18:24:05.491-07:00Air-travel Guidelines
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Its funny how time in an airport passes. Correction. Its
funny how the passing of time in an airport can vary so much based on what
phase of life you are in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And by
funny I mean bewildering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I remember when I could enjoy airport bars, meander through
duty-free smelling all the different fragrances, browse souvenirs and stand
reading books and magazines in the shops while waiting for my plane to start
boarding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Footloose and fancy free
is what they would call a young me, childless and unaccountable to everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But we never know how precious this
time is until we are given hindsight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh if I could have told my 22 year old self how lucky she was to
experience every airport leisure to its full potential!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, I am now in a life-phase where
airports require tact and strategy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My child is a frequent flier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His heavily stamped passport indicates he has been overseas
6 times before the age of 2, as well as numerous domestic flights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have strategy down-pat………
theoretically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For instance.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sleep times and warm bottles are timed around taxi and take-off;
nothing like the combination of a full belly and the thundering jet engine
rumble to lull a child to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Old toys will not be enough of a distraction to stop a child
getting grumpy and impossible in a very long customs line.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only new, never-before-seen by the
child, wrapped up toys will allow such success in prolonged distraction of the
toddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was an idea I got
from a friend – and what she said was, “if the child is well-behaved, give him
a new toy to unwrap and play with, this will encourage more good
behaviour.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m sure she meant
to say “when the child is not co-operating, use the new toy as bribery and
coercion”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Do not, I repeat DO NOT attempt duty free shopping with a
toddler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They will reach for
expensive perfume bottles, vintage whiskeys, and jars of La Prairie moisturiser
at lightning speed, causing acute heart failure triggered by the thought of the
cost of replacing these broken items.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Along with that is the war you will have to wage on the child when
denying them all the temptingly packaged candy that sits gleaming on the
shelves and counters.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If the child is anywhere over 18 months, do not attempt to
travel without an ipad. Parenting, especially in public domain, without tablets
or touch phones, is archaic and just plain hard. Just don’t do it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is OK to suck the orange Dorito residue off your child’s
fingers before he has a chance to touch your clothing while waiting to check-in
for a flight and the wipes are out of reach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Speaking of wipes, it is also OK to shove a hardly-dirty
wipe back into the pack for re-use, so long as it has not been used in
nappy-changing circumstances.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When a child is crying, or better yet – screeching
inconsolably for most of the long-haul flight across the pacific, rejoice and be
happy that it belongs to someone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a time when this was your child, and you wanted to open the
door and jump.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If your row is full, let your child annoy and clamber over
the other passengers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chances are
they will kick up a stink, especially if they are elderly East Indian folks,
and a sympathetic flight attendant will bump them to a spare seat in business
class, thus allowing a free seat for said child and breathing room for the
verging-on-insanity mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is a far cheaper option than just buying a seat for the toddler.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although it may be tempting to take all offers of coffee and
wine offered, use caution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Remember, you do not have the luxury of a nappy like the child does, and
once he’s asleep you mustn’t dare move and risk wake him from his slumber just
to go to the toilet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dehydration
is a preferable option.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Most importantly, observe the family with two teenagers
armed with handheld entertainment devices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Note how peacefully they are travelling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also have a look at the elderly couple,
tidily dressed, hair in place, not breaking a sweat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, the ones turning their noses up at you and your snotty-nosed child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember that this
life-phase will not last forever, and peaceful travel will someday again be a
reality.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-36791459112474055372012-09-06T15:44:00.000-07:002012-09-06T15:44:03.733-07:00Unfounded Fears
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Is she going to know that he likes all his food separately
instead of mixed together? Is she going to have enough tissues to keep up with
his snotty nose?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is she going to
be able to get him to sleep? Understand his words when he is trying to
communicate? Is he going to cry inconsolably, thus causing permanent seperation
anxiety damage to his psyche, rendering me a bad mother?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These are the questions one asks themselves while in the
shower on the morning their first child is going off to any sort of childcare
facility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our case, Jack is
going to an in-home care center, run by the most lovely woman I will call
B.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This decision has come after
months of internal debating with myself as to if Jack is or isn’t ready, is or
isn’t suited, will or will not benefit from spending time away from me, away
from our home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a period of
Jack seeming to be “searching” for something more, I decided to enroll and
start the familiarisation process at B’s house. And now, here we are, the Big
Day, and I’m suffering with terrible anxiety and poor Jack wont know what hit
him.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Well as it turned out, Jack wasn’t “poor Jack” at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a 5 minute cry, he settled in
just fine, played and played all day with the two other girls that go there,
behaved “like an angel” to quote B, and was the most pleasant little boy all
round.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he wasn’t fussed when I
came to fetch him at 3:00; he seemed to be more interested in finishing his
snack so he could get back to playing on the slide.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All of my anxieties have been unfounded. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what a strange day it was – that
first WHOLE day without Jack, which in truth I have had before but he has been
with a loved one and I didn’t have to deal with that aching in my heart, that
physical tensing of the gut caused by worry and maybe my own bout of seperation
anxiety.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As mothers we spend our days going by the clock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time for a snack. Time for a nappy
change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Time for a sleep, or a
playdate, or to get lunch in the oven, or for a time-out or a chill-out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How foreign this feels to bestow all of
this planning and responsibility onto another person for a whole 14 hours per
week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of a sudden my
motherhood productivity level just skyrocketed at an exponential rate, and I
cant help thinking this is too good to be true.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grocery shopping with no tantrums?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dashing in and out of 5 different shops without bribing Jack
back into his car seat each time with lollies or airplanes or promises of going
to the playground?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A morning
fitness class at the gym?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes – it
is all possible after all! I feel like I can do anything now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clean the windows… write a book….. walk
the dog…. We don’t have a dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Maybe I should get one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can envision power sessions of wallpaper stripping and
tile-laying in our renovation-hungry house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blog-writing by daylight, which has never happened
before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Baking frenzies at
lightning speed which don’t include a 2 year old standing at the counter
wanting to “help” pour everything in the bowl (or beside it, or on the floor…)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have heard people say before “a few hours of childcare a
week help me to be a better mother”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Well, I can now relate to that statement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You need not suffer post-partum depression or
any other sort of illness for this statement to be true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There needn’t be an “excuse”;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>just a feeling that it is the right
thing, at this point in time, for a child or the family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
However. I am left thinking that Nathan truly got the shitty
end of the stick all of a sudden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Poor bugger, away working all day, 5 days a week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here I am at home spending quality time
with our son 3 days a week, galavanting around town at my leisure 2 days a week, then family time all weekend long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My biggest dilemma, we discovered last
night, was my lack of a coffee thermos, should I have to dash out in the
morning before I am able to have my second cup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, being deprived of my second cup of coffee can be such a
hardship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b>Sigh</b>.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My life has, in the past week, taken on a new rhythm to
which the tempo is more upbeat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Change is scary, but also necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack and I will both grow and learn and, ultimately, win as
our routine evolves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can now see
how parents get to a stage of “we are ready to have another one now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This just seems so eeeeeasy!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><b>wink wink</b>!</div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-15454163676214123492012-05-31T02:28:00.001-07:002012-05-31T02:28:28.557-07:00On the topic of Transgenderism<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
At long last, I am blogging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s been a bit busy around here, what with marriage and a
new home and a child who is moving into toddler-hood!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more room for excuses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I stumbled across this topic a couple weeks ago now – and
when anything is even remotely consuming of my thoughts I tend to want to write
about it – so of course this went on the list of “blog topics”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A couple of weeks ago, something happened – my brother sent
me the most heart-felt, unprompted, emotionally charged email I have ever
received from him in all my years overseas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Turns out he was feeling betrayed; lied to; a victim of
fraud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As it happens, Tom Gabel,
the lead singer for Against Me!, an American punk band, is a self-confessed
transgender. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For more than 10 years my brother has been a faithful
Against Me! Fan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The shock of this
news sent him reeling, if only briefly, into a state of confusion and
uncertainty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was quite
apparently upset that such a “vital” part of someone’s identity had been kept a
secret to him for so long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
shared ideals and values with this man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He identified with him, and some days, in a round-about sort of way,
even idolized this man, although I will just clarify that Brad isn’t the sort
of person to make idols, or wish that he was someone different – he is quite
comfortable with himself as he is – imperfections and all, and I think
idolizing is a weaker trait that he doesn’t seem to demonstrate all to often,
unless its under the pretence of respect and self-improvement.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A brief post on his facebook led me to the 8-or-so page
article in the Rolling Stone mag, which consisted of Tom Gabel giving a
revealing interview about himself and his sexuality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, before I go any further, I am going to apologize to
Brad, my brother, for baring his soul and revealing his thoughts and emotions
for all of the interweb to see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But he’ll get over it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I
state in all my other blogs, everything is somehow or another all about
Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is no exception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, this “event” consumed my thoughts for a number of
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Possibly because that’s how
long it took me to get through the mammoth<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rolling Stone article – but also because I couldn’t help
thinking how it was affecting Brad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He LOVED this band, their music, what they stood for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What was he to do?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t relate to a man that wanted
to be a woman! A man who, from now on, was going to BE a woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How random.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How alienating.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the article, Tom is quietly pleading with fans to please
accept this truth and have faith in him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He swears he will still rock as hard as ever, still give his
all-consuming performances and keep writing thought provoking, instigating,
poetic-like lyrics.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I find
myself inwardly praying that Brad does find it in his heart to forgive, and accept
this news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, Tommy is
just a person – a person who is at the mercy of an unforgiving society, where
transgender issues still lie in the “taboo” basket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you’re from a small town and have never had to deal with
an issue like this personally, you cannot be expected to understand and accept
the news at the snap of a finger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Look, at the end of the day, Tommy Gabel – now to be known
as Laura – is a wildly talented and passionate individual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His personal struggles and trials of
growing up have channeled his talent and unique way of thinking into a form of
art that has affected and influenced thousands upon thousands of individuals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not much of a punk-rock fan these
days, yet I will always have time for Against Me! – it triggers a sense of
nostalgia, remembering a time when, back in the day, listening to them while
smoking a joint was the only way my brother and I could sit in peace without
bickering or being spiteful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
more than that I can fully appreciate his one-of-a-kind voice, his
fist-in-the-air, anthem-style sing-along chants that prevail in his
paradoxical, rebellious, anarchy-fuelled yet feel-good lyrical
compositions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To listen to him
belt out a tune is to recognize that he has a deep understanding for societal
values, and can quickly point out which of those values tend to be hypocritical
crocks of shit, yet doesn’t go so far as to demand societal rebellion by his
faithful followers – he is merely pointing out truths, sometimes in an
apologetic manner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that’s
pretty much all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the way he
can go from that to a light-hearted, good quality pub rock anthem, or an
acoustic guitar strumming rambling love song, often just puts a smile on my
face and a warm sense of familiarity in my belly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How is this
about Jack, then.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well… what if
Jack has been born with some trait that society is unaccepting of?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if he has some major personal
struggle that lay ahead of him?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not only will he have to deal with it personally and with his loved
ones, he will also have to face judgement and persecution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether it be a sexual preference, a
religious view, a political stance – I just all of a sudden felt vulnerable to
the world – the cruel, cruel world – for the sake of my son.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had a pang of desperation for my
brother to accept Tommy Gabel (a.k.a. Laura) and support her in what must be a
terrifying time in her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because, if some day Jack needs to out with some truth perceived as
“wild” and “outrageous”, yet it was how he was born, I need to know he will be
accepted and supported at LEAST by his loved ones.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s not about conservatism or liberalism or progressive
thinking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am fully convinced
that a transgender is someone trapped in the body of the opposite sex, and a
lot of times we as a society can show a lot of ignorance due to lack of
understanding, and that ignorance will be manifested as cruelty and mean-spiritedness. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Upon hearing about the end of Tom Gabel as we know him, I
went into a period of what felt like mourning and memoriam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was as if I was remembering a band
that was deceased, cherishing the best of what they had to offer, as if there
was going to be no more water to flow from that fountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I played their music at every opportunity, searching for some clue or cryptic inscription about his secret. </span>I explained this to my brother, and he
said he was going through the same thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But then he resolved to accept what he had learned, and provided me with
some optimistic insight – he said he is looking forward to their next album,
which he believes will be more “raw” than the last couple more commercially
refined productions, (which would come as a relief to any Against Me! fan), and
he envisions them becoming more famous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A wave of relief washes over me as I read this; he has accepted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has forgiven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is not judging.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is still letting the talent be what
it should be, and not letting it be overshadowed by some irrelevant aspect of
Tom’s personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, if
someone as cynical and black-and-white as my brother can find it in his heart
to resolve this internal struggle, I think there is hope in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hope for my son, who, one day, will need
acceptance and forgiveness in some form or another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank you Brad, for giving me hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-71200558664500588852012-04-16T02:40:00.000-07:002012-04-16T02:40:19.583-07:00Guest Post from HeatherSomewhere in America, a stranger stumbled across my blog, and has seen me as a channel - a means to share her story. She contacted me via email, to share with me her story of survival and hope. Her situation and circumstance draws no apparent parallels to my life, she has fought battles I can not even fathom. However her story is one that will touch you deeply - bring tears to your eyes - send a shiver down your spine. It will also remind you of the reasons we hold on to hope, and that we should never take life for granted.<br />
<br />
This "guest post" is a short blip from Heather, telling of her journey thus far. At the end of the blog, I will post the link to her website where you can read further - and hopefully share it on to your loved ones, because its nice to hear of a happy ending once in a while...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">Learning Not to Take Anything for Granted</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><br style="line-height: 23px;" /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">Everyone fears the unexpected. However, it is a lot harder to expect it, especially three and a half months after giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. I did not expect the worst. The worst came anyway in the form of malignant pleural</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><a href="http://www.mesothelioma.com/" style="color: #0068cf; cursor: pointer; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 23px; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20px; text-decoration: none;"> </span><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20px;">mesothelioma</span></a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">. The diagnosis came on November 21, 2005. I was scared and looking my own mortality in the face. I was also realizing a toughness I never knew existed in me.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><br style="line-height: 23px;" /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">Soon after I was diagnosed, I got a referral for Dr. David Sugarbaker at the Boston Brigham and Women's Hospital. Dr. Sugarbaker was honest. My disease has a grim prognosis. However, he still managed to give me hope. In my research, I learned that my chances of living more than five years from that time were only two percent. I knew I could be in that two percent. I needed determination and that was growing inside of me.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><br style="line-height: 23px;" /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">It was not easy to stay determined. My first step on the road to beating mesothelioma was a surgery. The surgery involved the removal of the tumor that was ruining my life and my entire left lung. Obviously, I could not take care of my baby at that time. Lily stayed with my parents about 2,000 miles away from me while I had surgery under the care of the wonderful doctors in Boston, Massachusetts.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><br style="line-height: 23px;" /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">Despite so much of me being taken out during surgery, it was necessary to undergo chemotherapy and radiation for the months following my surgery. I was involved with the care of my daughter. Nonetheless, I needed help. I was still very sick. I was lucky to have friends and family to help me all the way to the end of my</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><a href="http://www.mesothelioma.com/treatment/" style="color: #0068cf; cursor: pointer; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 23px; text-decoration: underline;" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20px; text-decoration: none;"></span><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20px;">mesothelioma treatment</span></a></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">, which was around my daughter's first birthday.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><br style="line-height: 23px;" /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">The lessons I learned from battling cancer I am not sure I could have learned through anything less trying. I learned that taking anything for granted is a mistake. Cancer helped me realize that appreciating all the little things in life is the best way to live life to its fullest. Life is not about the things that upset you. It is about the things that make life worth living. My daughter’s laugh and smile is something I will never take for granted. I will cherish every moment of her life to which I am privy.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 23px;"><br style="line-height: 23px;" /></span><span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">Among the most important of my discoveries since my cancer diagnosis is that the people fighting with me were warriors. I met sufferers and family members whose journeys continued with mine or sadly ended. Each of them will have a place in my heart forever. They are the reason that I am striving to improve mesothelioma awareness. One of the best ways to do this is for me just to keep on living and living life to the fullest. No matter how bad things get, I have every reason to be grateful that I am alive and able to experience everything -- the good and the bad.</span><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 17px;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: black; font-family: Arial; line-height: 20px;">Read more:</span></div>
<a href="http://www.mesothelioma.com/blog/authors/heather">www.mesothelioma.com/blog/authors/heather</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 20px;"><br /></span></span></div>
</span>High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-38898299191568673182012-03-24T18:52:00.000-07:002012-03-24T18:55:46.919-07:00The Honeymoon: Dirty Details....<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nathan and I got married last month. What a wonderful day it was; I’m not
lying when I say it was like a fairy tale – it was magic. The setting, the vows, the dress, the
catering, the decorations – it all went off without a hitch and was more than I
ever could have hoped for. But the
best part of it all, the main feature, were the people. So many of our friends and family
showed up from around the globe – literally – and it was a once in a lifetime
opportunity to have such a gathering of both sides of our family.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, we couldn’t let the Canadians come over without showing
them the best bits of NZ, so after the wedding we embarked on a 2 week road
trip around the South Island to see the country in all its glory. Let me tell you about the logistics of
organizing a honeymoon with 20 people.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
2 vans, 2
weeks, 3500 km, 2 babies, 1 pregnant lady, 5 kiwis, 15 Canadians, 6
accommodation stops, 1 ferry
crossing, a dozen or more one way bridges, countless oohs and aahs.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In hindsight, I think my most prominent shortcoming as trip
planner was not accounting for snoring tendancies. We had the best of intentions to bed down together in lodge and cabin style accommodation, in some
cases with bunk rooms, and this was definitely what made the trip economical
for everyone. But when it comes
down to it, everyone should have had their own sound-proof pod for sleeping
because the snoring penetrated walls and windows and made the floors vibrate
and the windows shudder. It was
phenomenal. And it wasn’t just 1
or 2; there were at least half a dozen grizzly bears in this group, and people
who were unaware they were snorers quickly had it pointed out to them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Missing / forgotten / misplaced articles. I have lost count, but to name a few:
Bose headset. Reading glasses. Cell phones (x2). A hair dryer. Power converter. Adapter. A slipper, a jacket, a room key, a porta-cot mattress, a
frying pan, and the list goes on. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I, personally, went on a wild goose chase around Twizel one
morning in search of my credit card- only to discover it was in fact in my
wallet all along. I also forgot my
brother at a hotel in Christchurch for a good 2 hours after check-out, left my marriage licence documents
behind, left all 3 of my families passports on the plane when we first arrived
in NZ, and lost my wedding rings on the floor of a bar in Queenstown – until
they stopped the music, turned on the lights, and made all the patrons get down
on their knees to look for them. Then I forgot my wedding rings in Christchurch and went
back to Australia without them. So,
just the little things, really.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ailments and Illnesses. Both babies caught colds, and both suffered bouts of
teething (including a temperature). Jack had the most heinous allergic reaction
/ eczema / rash of his life that started the day our holiday started and
mysteriously subsided the day we returned to Australia. There was strep throat. Double
vision. A case of leg swelling to
which the cause and cure is still unknown, and the patient, my cousin, was
reduced to crutches for a big part of the trip. There was a stomach bug that methodically struck down
individuals 1 by 1, starting in Pohangina and finishing in Wanaka. There were hangovers, caffeine &
nicotine withdrawls, coldsores, PMS, blisters, motion sickness, indigestion,
back problems, oh and cuts and bruises –mainly from drunken shenanigans like
falling out of bunk beds and trying to do clap-push ups in sauna like
conditions while chugging beers.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the more amusing aspects of the trip was the language
barrier. You would think that
because we all speak English that such a barrier would not exist. Not so. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not only do we pronounce things differently, we have
different words, phrases, expressions, and figures of speech. As it turned out, the hardest people to
understand were the ones with the thick Newfie accents who sounded like they
had a mouth full of marbles while speaking. My Uncle Doug was, hands down, the hardest person to
decipher. I’m pretty sure that
when he spoke, most kiwis would nod, then take 4 or 5 minutes to contemplate or
discuss with others what he may have said. I recall one instance when my sister-in-law was
speaking to him in the kitchen, (let me point out she is from England), and he
repeated a question 3 times (all 3 times were just as mumbled and unclear as
eachother, albeit) and she just broke out into laughter, shook her head and
walked away in bewilderment because there was no way she could be clear about
what he wanted. In Dunedin one
night, my uncle said he had to ring Air NZ to ask them about something he lost
on the flight (aforementioned Bose headset) – and I quickly took his phone and
gave it to Auntie to save all parties involved a lot of frustration and
confusion. An old newfie coming up
against an Indian call-centre respondent was not going to be pretty. And there were more than a couple occasions where Canadians
were left scratching their heads with the loose kiwi slang being thrown about
by my mother and father-in-law and their mates who accompanied us. The best we could do was laugh, really,
and make fun of each other. One
amusing game was trying to get Canucks to pronounce Maori place names. Speaking of games, as the driver of my
van I felt it my right to start a driving game whenever my brain needed some
stimulation, so we played a lot of “20 questions” or “who am I”, to the point
where I think my cousin and possibly a few others wanted to jump out the
window. Apparently they no longer
cared if I was the pope, or Ronald McDonald, or Kelly Ripa. But it was such a fun game!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Language barriers aside, I think each person got what they
came for. The fishing enthusiasts
got to fish. The wanderers got to
people-watch and take photos. The
hunters got their deer. The babies
got to run and play and learn and discover. The young people got to have a few big nights out kiwi
style, and the women got to do a bit of shopping. The Canadians and the North Islanders that came along were
gobsmacked with the beauty that lay around every corner of the road as we
travelled, and the well-known landmarks that make NZ famous did not
disappoint. Lake Pukaki,
Punakaiki, the rugged west coast, Christchurch CBD, the heart of Dunedin, Otago
Peninsula, Golden Bay…. It was a stunning and memorable trip of a lifetime for
everyone. Unfortunately, the beauty of New Zealand and the good times that were shared cannot be expressed in words or photographs. I could try and explain to you in great detail the freshness of the air, the undisturbed, unexploited rainforest and seaside we encountered, or the friendliness of the people. I could try and describe the beauty we witnessed in the contrasting colours of the Lakes District in the Autumn - the blue lakes against the varying green countryside against the sharp, intimidating and awe inspiring mountain range that is the Remarkables. The compact, condensed city centre of Dunedin which wraps around a bay and has the charm and character of something out of old Scotland - which is befitting granted it was NZ's first established city and the buildings have the stories to go with the history. Alas, words do not do justice to a land that is possibly one of the most picturesque and breathtaking places on the planet. It is something that must be witnessed first hand.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We really are blessed to
have had that opportunity to show off this beautiful country that we can now
proudly call our home (again), and it is a relief that my family now has an
understanding for why I stay here.
They got to see where I have lived, meet my friends, see my work
projects, meet my new family, and partake in the NZ lifestyle that is renowned
for its relaxed and laid back approach.
It was wonderful to see friendships forged that span the pacific ocean –
and its funny now to see my family and Nathans family converging on facebook,
sharing inside jokes and fond memories!
It was simply splendid, so thank you all.</div>High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-2252668725068139362012-01-28T15:41:00.000-08:002012-01-28T15:41:07.940-08:00It seemed a good idea at the time.....<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a rainy weekend in Brisbane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saturday afternoon we decide to take Jack to Lollipops –
what a great idea; get everyone out of the house, ensure Jack has a run-around
and tires himself out so he sleeps well in this god awful humidity.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Lollipops is an indoor playland – you know, the sort with
tunnels and slides and ball pits and bouncy castles etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Somehow I didn’t factor in that every other family with
small children in Eastern Brisbane had this idea as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mayhem pretty well describes what it
was like there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon arrival, I
witnessed a child just open his mouth and blatantly scream, before proceeding
to dash around the place not unlike someone on speed or some other
adrenaline-fuelling drug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not a claustraphobic person, but somehow managed to
experience this panicked feeling when trapped in the “under 4’s” play area with
a handful of other parents all trying to stay within arm’s reach of their own
wobbly toddler, ready and braced to body-check any obstacle who may happen to
come between said parent and its child – should that child appear to lose
footing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wasn’t so much worried about Jack falling (in his case, head-over
heels down the slide in his attempt to run down it on two feet), but more about
him tossing other children to the side, stealing their dummies, or pulling hair
as he seems to enjoy doing these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I let Nathan do the arm’s length monitoring while I sat back in a
miniature chair and tried to take deep breaths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is, until 2 obnoxious and sugar-hyped 6 year olds
bashed their way up the slide, past the toddlers and through the jungle gym
that is for BABIES.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart rate
immediately increased.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I scrambled
into the jungle gym with Jack and started lecturing someone else’s little
terror of a child, as he attempted to feed my baby a potato chip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“There’s no food in here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>OUT”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shot me an evil stare and turned to crawl away from
me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tried to grab his chip bag -
my justification being he tried to feed one to my child, should his parent be
offended – but he was too quick and climbed out of the gym and went to sit in
the corner and eat his chips (not before screaming “YOU”RE NOT THE BOSS OF ME”
and spitting in my face as he blew his tongue at me in true brat-fashion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got the last laugh, though, when I watched him leave his
chip bag and crumbs on the floor – which I didn’t hesitate to pick up and bring
to his father, sweetly explaining there is no food allowed in the “under 4”
areas and that he was trying to feed chips to the babies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was sure to give that little shit my
best “HA-HA” smirk as I walked away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That was the last we saw of him!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then it was back to watch Jack crawl back and forth through
this tunnel, competing with other babies to climb over and through the
obstacles, up the stairs, down the slide, again and again and again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt a little bit bad letting Nathan
do all the monitoring as I just sat on my ass and watched from afar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I just didn’t have the energy, or
the care, to get in there amongst strangers children and try and pretend that I
cared about them as much as my own son – cause I really don’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack is an only child and I parent him
as such – I just want to watch him explore, discover, do new things and laugh –
even if it means he’s spending more than his fair share of time on the steps
and not making room for the little girl behind him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m thinking “just push him if you want to get past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what he would do to you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Geez.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although, I like to think that if my child ever did anything
that disrespected another adult like that 6 year old brat did to me, he would
be in the car with a smack on the ass faster than you can say “grounded”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like to compare my own child against
others and be delusional about how perfect Jack is going to be as he grows up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nathan sometimes says to me, if it’s a rainy day during the
week while hes working, “why don’t you take Jack to Lollipops”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know he has great intentions for Jack
and I that we can just go and have a play and get out of the house, but really,
if I am going to spend $15 to get into that place for just an hour of play, Im
going to do it when we can make it family time – on the weekend – and any less
than a 2:1 parent-child ratio just means its going to be exhausting hard
work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least with two parents
you can tag eachother out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which
happened when Jack wanted to go to the big kids tunnels and slides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also made children here be cautious
of my wee baby, even though my wee baby wasn’t meant to be in there, and it was
true rowdy-kids domain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At any
rate, Jack wanted to explore and I never hinder this desire of his if I can
help it, so off we went.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan
was quick to point out I am smaller than him and therefore I had to tail Jack
through the maze.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fair
enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So off we went, crawling
through the smelly, muggy tunnels – getting whiffs of 13-year old boys who
haven’t yet been told to wear deodorant, and tossing aside odd socks here and
there that children have carelessly disposed of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m trying not to hyperventilate as Jack sets his foot in
some unknown puddle of liquid, or puts his hands to his face to rub his
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In my head I can hear a
slow-motion deep voice saying “NoOoOoOoOoooo… don’t dooooo ittttttttt…..”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and I longingly eye the
hand sanitizer mounted on the wall at various points around the joint.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jack feels it necessary to carry a single ball through the
maze with him, as if its his newfound treasure, managing to amble through with
one hand where possible, and tossing the ball ahead and retrieving it if he
needs two hands to climb over something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And every time he picks the ball up, he has to try and shove it in his
mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell myself its all an
immunity building exercise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell
myself this often.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But for the
love of Pete, Jack, please please do not get sick from this play excursion,
cause we have far too much to do in the coming weeks to be sleep deprived from
some nasty cootie-related illness.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, after rubbing his eyes a couple of times and
starting to get wobbly on his feet, I jumped on the opportunity to say “ok time
to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have to get dinner cooked”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan didn’t protest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He already had my purse slung over his
shoulder and we were off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
All in all a great day, I mean Jack had a blast and its
amazing watching him work out how to get himself up, over, under, around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just wondering how many trips it will
take for me to become numb to the madness of it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lets just say I hope this rainy weather doesn’t happen too
often.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-49103533190368950002011-12-14T23:57:00.000-08:002011-12-14T23:57:05.857-08:00Fears<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the past few months, there have been a number of
break-ins on our street.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably
not forced entry, more “opportunists” checking for unlocked doors and windows
in the middle of the night, and taking whatever they can carry on foot –
probably teenagers, taking ipads and game consoles, televisions and the
like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has made me change my
attitude a little bit – but only a little.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see, I have this mentality that if you don’t think
something is going to happen to you, it won’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I never live with a fear that someone is going to break
into my house – I don’t really believe random acts of violence are a fear worth
wasting too much energy on. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, I have started to check the doors are
locked at night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I don’t lock
my doors when I am home during the day, in fact, I leave every door wide open as much as
possible, because I believe noone would enter and rob us / harm us in broad
daylight. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When you become a parent, I think your fears change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It used to be things like.. spiders,
creepy old men at the bar, or, hm.. I cant remember the things I used to be
afraid of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then there was the set
of fears I anticipated I would have once having a baby – things such as germs,
dirt, unprotected ledges, stairs, small objects, bleach, and the like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now that I have Jack, I can lay
claim to a plethora of new fears <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-
seemingly silly ones, perhaps - that have bombarded my conscience as Jacks
Mother.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Naturally, the most substantial medical claims always burn
themselves into my brain thus propelling my fears of seemingly harmless things.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For instance, the sun.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“3 significant sunburns in a lifetime is all it takes to increase your
chance of skin cancer by 65%” Or something along those lines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But Jack needs the sun, and
needs fresh air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Put sunscreen on
him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sunscreen!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That bottle of chemicals laden with
cell-killing ingredients and free radicals!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh dear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even hours of extensive research on “best for baby” products doesn’t
completely eliminate these fears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Crocs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes –
those seemingly harmless, yet hideous foot coverings that have become all the
rage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All you need to do is watch
the youtube videos to see that croc+escalator = mangled childrens feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Wheat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be or
not to be Gluten free…. Well with latest claims from doctors that more than 95%
of wheat worldwide is GM, how do I NOT feel a rising sense of panic when I buy
a loaf of bread for Jack.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
even going to go there, you all know. Be afraid.. be very afraid!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The colour red.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is, in foods or candies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Eek… in fact, most colours in foods can be blamed for some sort of
behavioural issues in children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This along with any additive or preservative.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again, rising sense of panic at the supermarket.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Plastic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cartoons.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Media.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Air fresheners.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Religion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The list goes on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You get the idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seemingly
harmless things come under a new light once you have a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It can be exhausting.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So Nathan and I make the best decisions we can, given the
information we have, in the circumstances we face, while trying not to be
pedantic or unreasonable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Nathan
is better at the latter than I).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But one thing I don’t believe in being afraid of is “random
acts of violence”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going back to
the break-ins, I have had neighbours express concern that Jack and I spend all
day with the doors open and the garage door up – open to anyone to come
in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My closest neighbour, a lady I
am deeply fond of and who I share a mutual respect with, has said we should
lock our doors while at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
I know people that do this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I
simply can’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I have another
underlying fear of being locked IN….. whatever it is, I will not live as a
prisoner in my own house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will
not live with a fear that something or someone bad could enter my house at any
moment – thus prompting me to apply deadbolts and close my blinds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I simply don’t believe this is an
effective use of energy – to live with this sort of fear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure, common sense should play a part –
hence my diligence at locking doors at nighttime (although admittedly I never
checked them before the break-ins started).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My loving neighbour said “what if someone took Jack”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I informed them how much money he costs to run, how he
runs in turbo-mode from morning until night – with batteries that never wear
out, sort of like a cyclone leaving a disaster in his every wake - and that he requires almost all of your attention almost all of the time,
I’m certain they would reconsider their decision to steal him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Half the time he’s covered in food /
dirt and doesn’t smell very good, and spends a lot of time banging hard things
against other hard things while chanting or just blatantly yelling – anyone that
wasn’t his mother would see there are simply more appealing things to steal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This wraps up my “fears” rant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose with time these will change; some may fade off my
radar, and new ones will pop up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
better not think about it too much and rather just take it all as it
comes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In all fairness though, given my heightened sense of
alertness all of the time – which I now know is a permanent state of being in
my life as a parent – I wouldn’t trade it for the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack is worth every inkling of worry I
will ever shed my energy on!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-41948030905218631872011-11-28T23:24:00.001-08:002011-11-28T23:45:16.278-08:00Aotearoa - A love affair<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Small town New Zealand, you probably…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Still have a fireplace to heat your home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Call into the pub on a Friday arvo for
a few pints after a weeks worth of honest hard work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Know your postie’s name. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Know your neighbours. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Small Town New Zealand, you’re likely to…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
See the truckies and the farmers up at the break of dawn
with their stubbie shorts and high-vis vests (even in the dead of winter).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See the stars at night, with no light
and sound pollution to tarnish the serenity that comes with the brilliance of
the constellations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leave your
doors unlocked, to your house and your car.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Small town NZ, you can generally count on….. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A local volunteer chapter of the NZ fire service and St.
Johns Ambulance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A local RSA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A safe and trusted midwife, plunket and
crèche who will be a part of the community that raises your children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A bowls club, with immaculate greens
and elderly folk in their white duds and sunhats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A fish and chips shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A four square. The bogans cruising the strip on a Friday night in their
Holdens.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In Small Town NZ, you will never see…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Midnight madness” sales at the town shops. A plethora of
neon signs and a bombardment of advertising.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A traffic jam at rush hour.. unless a farmer is moving his
stock.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Small town NZ may sometimes make your feet itch, but it
always calls you back – always feels like home – even if you’re not a kiwi, as
I have discovered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
significance of these findings and observations is that the majority of NZ is
made up of these “small towns”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just so many down-to-earth, honest, hard working people who generally
work to live instead of living to work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There isn’t a necessity to live excessively, and value is placed in
things that money CAN’T buy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Twizel. Roxburgh. Westport. Alexandra. Te Anau. Foxton. Taihape. The
country is riddled with charming little places filled with people who give New
Zealand its wonderful reputation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is why I keep coming back…. And why I consider it home - it holds a
very big place in my heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Thank you New Zealand, for making me fall in love with you.
There is a certain contentment that resides within me, knowing you are the place
we call home and the place my child will be lucky enough to grow up in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">In a few months we will have my Canadian family here for 3 weeks to attend our wedding and do a bit of touring around the country. After years of living away, indifference can often be given a chance to flourish. Common ground runs out, and familiarity can run dry between us and the ones we "once knew". Leaving home can be hard when you feel like you are leaving people behind, and so a big part of me is thankful for this once-in-a-lifetime "reunion" we will have here in February, as it's going to allow for a sense of understanding as to why it is I keep coming back and want NZ to be my true home. Its not just the beautiful scenery and picturesque countryside, but also the lifestyle, the lovely people and the not-so-fast-paced society. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Selfishly, I want to be released of the guilt I carry for being able to find happiness on the opposite side of the world from my loved ones. There's honesty if you ever did hear it. So my excitement for my wedding is matched by my excitement for the opportunity for that release, and that it will happen in the name of Jack - his happiness and his future - and all that is promised to him here in this wonderful land of Aotearoa.</span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-18206587795808372112011-11-12T20:46:00.001-08:002011-11-12T22:06:38.002-08:00Encounters<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Warning… if creepy crawlies give you the heebie geebies,
this blog may not be for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
I know it will be tempting to read on – so don’t say I didn’t warn you!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve been in Australia nearly 18 months now, and I must
say its been enjoyable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The best
thing about Queensland is probably the climate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We absolutely love the long warm days with clear blue skies
which seem to be the norm for the majority of the year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you know who else likes the
climate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rodents, amphibians,
reptiles and large bugs. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You know, I don’t mind that we share our property with
multiple lizards (one in the front garden, one in the back, and one that lives
in a hole under the concrete pad for the clothes line). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthtEZbN-Se3XH5r3_7cR5rSSwePh6jyGcmWHQHGi4LwKvUFogq9uFWB88eQ_NSrzZQec54Q9YyaBu1edD1QAJTQRLXd-Fa6f7vYOFQk_FN75RdjONk81aYJiMItAu08Ug7lzYsXm3TfI/s1600/lizard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthtEZbN-Se3XH5r3_7cR5rSSwePh6jyGcmWHQHGi4LwKvUFogq9uFWB88eQ_NSrzZQec54Q9YyaBu1edD1QAJTQRLXd-Fa6f7vYOFQk_FN75RdjONk81aYJiMItAu08Ug7lzYsXm3TfI/s320/lizard.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A lizard under our picnic table at the Koala Sanctuary.. the ones in our garden are smaller than this..<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The dozens of
geckos that emerge when darkness falls, sticking to windows and the back porch
ceiling, don’t bother me – I learned to adjust to that when I lived in
Lao.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They are harmless.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So much so, in fact, that when one or
two get in the house I can live harmoniously with them for days on end, and
wait for them to find an open door to let themselves out instead of trying to
chase them.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
I don’t mind the vivid green tree frogs – they are much more
pleasant to come across than the giant, wart-covered, slimy, insanely stupid
cane toads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXSSZGHl1mQVOoLuS7fIHgNIToQA614OTfrBz80aWNsB3g4SqahvhbzdnYiLN3L1wfwy8GcG7lijLlFEFdL43qxWO3KquQlXKSh3HZ7I3TDeOwQUBhDnp_Rl3h0dLXn3SQ9_pmfwX6qOI/s1600/treefrog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXSSZGHl1mQVOoLuS7fIHgNIToQA614OTfrBz80aWNsB3g4SqahvhbzdnYiLN3L1wfwy8GcG7lijLlFEFdL43qxWO3KquQlXKSh3HZ7I3TDeOwQUBhDnp_Rl3h0dLXn3SQ9_pmfwX6qOI/s320/treefrog.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green Tree Frog</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also don’t mind the possum family that skitters across my
back fence at night, illuminated by the moon and looking very rat-like with its
thick long tail and beefy haunches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Poor possums…. First time I saw them I swore up and down they were large
rats (not my fault – they look very different to the New Zealand possum).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gardener came around and laid rat
poison on the fence for me…. After an informative visit to the Queensland
Museum, I learned that there are rat-like possums here, oh and they are a
protected species!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ooops…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These
are the critters who share our property all or some of the time, and that’s
fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll tell you who I DON’T
like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Firstly, the Huntsman
spider. (see photo).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a
traumatizing experience it was to come face-to-face with one on the wall in the
hallway when Jack was a brand new little bubba.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the size of a dinner plate with its leg span, and
Nathan had a ten minute battle with it using a can of fly spray under the bed
in the spare room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was scarred
for weeks… everytime I got up in the middle of the night, my heart would stop
with every shadow I spotted – or doorknob I sighted – and I would jump –
thinking it was another monster spider.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I believe it is the same species Nathan’s cousin spotted on her baby’s
face when she went in to check on him in his crib one night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(she lives in Sydney).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She also had one drop from the visor in her car one day…….
This is bound to happen to me sooner or later since we always leave the windows
down in the car while its parked in the garage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7Ns7616gnWKsDkce8PDXuKi9gQYrIgoMH9XEqEppyuqpLnmgs6KFjnLaVba76RJdL8fLUJFeCz_Mufh2s5v-wcW-SAaJMt1ZPAo233DBMuhJa_JTyfbQaqwmEfG5j1IYuDW-FP9PXlg/s1600/huntsman.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7Ns7616gnWKsDkce8PDXuKi9gQYrIgoMH9XEqEppyuqpLnmgs6KFjnLaVba76RJdL8fLUJFeCz_Mufh2s5v-wcW-SAaJMt1ZPAo233DBMuhJa_JTyfbQaqwmEfG5j1IYuDW-FP9PXlg/s320/huntsman.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The huntsman on its way to Jacks bedroom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81QDrGGe3Gxmq-kpz46T2FL-vdXKRcwDeUdtRGKDa1uDLnxq0GMc_CgJ__Rvm_guc3XgHNk7NPpQ2rtaUpcCv6cZsI_NEkwpRqlmdivoSsmeI4MzUUasG9JCVw62zroNc2-AKKURhs_A/s1600/orbweb.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg81QDrGGe3Gxmq-kpz46T2FL-vdXKRcwDeUdtRGKDa1uDLnxq0GMc_CgJ__Rvm_guc3XgHNk7NPpQ2rtaUpcCv6cZsI_NEkwpRqlmdivoSsmeI4MzUUasG9JCVw62zroNc2-AKKURhs_A/s320/orbweb.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Orb Web spider at our local 7Eleven</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Apparently the Huntsman isn’t aggressive, but holy heck it
is fast, and a spider that sprints at about 100km/h is going to make you scream
just as much as one that lunges for you (like the trapdoor will do,
apparently)…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other very large
spider we have seen a lot of is the Orb Web Spider (pictured below).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But they don’t move from their webs
much – the biggest risk they pose is giving old people heart attacks when they
walk into the web in the dark, and the spider consequently ends up in their hair
or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not old but I’m
pretty sure that would send me into cardiac arrest, as well.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I’m really not a fan of arachnids of any sort, but
funnily enough I can’t bring myself to check my shoes before I slide my feet
inside because somehow I feel the shock of sighting it would be worse than the
alarm when it bit my toe to make its presence known.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rediculous, I know…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nathan has created an invisible barrier around our home with
an effective spider spray – I haven’t seen a serious spider around here for
months now, and all scars heal with time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So I’m getting over the Huntsman experience.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll now go on to tell you about the snake encounters we
have had.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t had a literal “run-in” with a snake, however we have crossed paths.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first one I ever saw was a Brown Snake that had been
freshly run over by a car, just alongside the park I always go to with
Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The snake was not very big,
and had a very small head, so I deduced that it was an insignificant
sighting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I went home and
googled the snake, I discovered it was probably one of the most venomous snakes
you could come across here in Aussie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Wonderful……….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan told
me last week that him and Jack had to stop in the park to let a Brown Snake
cross… so that’s two in less than a year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Two too many, thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The other snake we have sighted was the Carpet Python.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have seen two of these, both in the
same park.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (</span>I’m contemplating
changing the name from Minnippi Parklands to Minnippi Snakelands).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now a Carpet Python, in my opinion, is a great snake
sighting cause it’s your classic, fat, slow-slithering, colourful, long, exotic
looking snake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wished I had
a camera (however I have added a pic of a Carpet Python that I took at the
Perth Zoo).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So these, along with a
couple small snakes Nathan has had to pull out of the pool in our living
complex, are the sum of our snake encounters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The snakes don’t particularly scare me, not like spiders…
maybe that’s why I leave my doors wide open all day long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might as well hang a sign that says
“snakes enter here”… that might teach me a lesson and instill a healthy fear
back into my bones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPdPq8xgBvESYiHl6xT0wp6IVlJw3jkpul1oEYbMUlLZiTY3m4WM2qm80b3vFjrdngOPHWpOTbGrftdUY-OICTT2q7FkZxuZRSkl9xAOEQABQcj7L858yCoB8RBoJ-Ll90nI7Enc-cvQ/s1600/carpet+python.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIPdPq8xgBvESYiHl6xT0wp6IVlJw3jkpul1oEYbMUlLZiTY3m4WM2qm80b3vFjrdngOPHWpOTbGrftdUY-OICTT2q7FkZxuZRSkl9xAOEQABQcj7L858yCoB8RBoJ-Ll90nI7Enc-cvQ/s320/carpet+python.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carpet Python at Perth Zoo</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But why be afraid of a chance of bad luck with a snake when
there are far more useful ways to exert that energy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve been to the beach numerous times – I mean the ocean –
where there are things like shark and jellyfish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hellloooooooo!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s worth worrying about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Crikey, one time when we were in Mooloolaba for the weekend, we
WITNESSED an evacuation due to a shark sighting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There have been a handful, if not more, of reported shark
attacks here in Australia just in the short time we have lived here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ocean?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What do I need to go in the ocean for?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t have gills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t eat algae.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not a crustacean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ocean is for LOOKING at, thanks
very much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goodness me, there’s
rip tides to worry about, and currents, and many, many things that bite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m from a landlocked province so
anyone should be able to understand my inability to fathom a desire to enter
such a treacherous body of water.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So…I don’t like how I have to worry about Jack frolicking in
the grass with no shoes on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I
try not to think about what it would be like to walk into his room to see a
giant spider on his wall or – God forbid – in his crib.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’d be on the next plane out, I can
assure you of that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, you know, aside from all of these
heart-stopping-in-a-terrifyling-sort-of-way encounters, it would be nice if
Jack had a memory of petting a kangaroo or holding a koala.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would like him to be old enough to
remember sighting a massive bat in the moonlight, and the famous Aussie crocs
(at Steve Irwin Zoo – not in the wild).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I hope I can keep my wits about me once Jack gets a bit older so that I
don’t instill a fear in him unnecessarily, yet there’s only a fine line between
fear and wisdom when it comes to a child and animals… </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZAQLLYuImi9AiCDgnerjsZUuF5kfVVDbcfsd0r1w7znWh-ZF4DWNMp5WQ53_Xf3UrBYqudOBIYhXW5AEmNUKXtUoISerVLAFoi5bOojyZJn4Yaj5xKCBP15QgoueAHZLDVLstky8iIk/s1600/kangaroo+outside+shop.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFZAQLLYuImi9AiCDgnerjsZUuF5kfVVDbcfsd0r1w7znWh-ZF4DWNMp5WQ53_Xf3UrBYqudOBIYhXW5AEmNUKXtUoISerVLAFoi5bOojyZJn4Yaj5xKCBP15QgoueAHZLDVLstky8iIk/s320/kangaroo+outside+shop.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kangaroo outside a hotel we stayed at while driving across Australia</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Living in Australia, the wildlife sightings are so different
to what I was privileged enough to see growing up as a child in Canada.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t help but wonder if Jack is ever
going to get to see a big black bear, or a mighty timber wolf in the Canadian
wild.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t help but feel that
he would be missing out if he doesn’t .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How awe-inspiring is it to see a moose with her cubs, a herd of deer, or
a snowy owl in the great boreal forest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh how I miss the Great White North at
times…..</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQaAdxFUmuKCTa3immnMrP3I0m4MdlHDztfFcD-4xsi2j096Egokr0aLGiLBSJJdZs4yTRqteRdkuNCJfsJG5-TPtPDpcNWksCvKluOElOoTG6W-YYqaFYyYVCQzfI9c1su0T1a0Byas/s1600/praying+mantis.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzQaAdxFUmuKCTa3immnMrP3I0m4MdlHDztfFcD-4xsi2j096Egokr0aLGiLBSJJdZs4yTRqteRdkuNCJfsJG5-TPtPDpcNWksCvKluOElOoTG6W-YYqaFYyYVCQzfI9c1su0T1a0Byas/s320/praying+mantis.JPG" width="320" /></a>Alas, Jack will probably remember none of what we are
experiencing here in Oz, nor is he likely to spend any length of time in North
America as a child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon we will
be back in NZ, with nothin’ but Kiwiana goodness – sheep, sheep and more
sheep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No snakes, no deadly
spiders, no cougars or crocs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
hey…. At least he won’t have to wear shoes in the grass!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-47688516572028141462011-10-17T20:32:00.000-07:002011-10-17T20:32:59.919-07:00Pimp My Ride... baby-style<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, I’m walking through the shopping mall with Jack the
other day… yes, that’s right, Jack and I were walking side by side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or, rather, he was leading and I was
just trying to keep up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m
thinking about the past year – the first year of his life – and what a surprise
its been in terms of baby transport.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You see, I like to keep on the minimalist side of things
when it comes to parenting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t want Jack to have tons of stuff, and I don’t want to spend tons of
money on him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So when I was
pregnant, we went out and bought this wonderful pram (sorry my Canadian readers
– pram is stroller, and this is the term I use given I live in a country full
of funny-speaking people).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
pram came with two different seats – a little capsule for when he was a tiny
bub -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was necessary for
transferring him from car to pram without disturbing him from sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then when he grew out of that, there
was a toddler seat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This faces
forward or backwards, reclines in three stages for baby’s sleeping or awake
time comfort, and the pram itself is a Cadillac of a machine – both in terms of
its size and its endless features.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The pram can also accommodate another seat – so it can eventually cart
around 2 children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was one of
the main selling points for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its
cost was something exorbitant – as we expected it would be – prams are just
outrageous in both their cost and the wide range of bells and whistles they can
offer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, anyways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
spend nearly $1000 for this shiny new set of wheels for our little cherub who
will soon be making his grand entrance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I had visions of using this pram on our daily outings, trucking it
overseas for family holidays, and of watching Jack go through the stages of
growing up with the pram – going to toddler seat and eventually the second seat
to make room for his new little sibling we might have one day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is now roughly one year on from when Jack and I had our
first outing in the Vista Cruiser.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(All of Jacks vehicles have names).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And today I had to blow the dust off it in the garage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hate that thing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is so big.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It is so hard to get through aisles in a shop – if not impossible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The basket under the seat is not big
enough to hold any reasonable amount of groceries, so when Jack was a wee baby
I would have to push the pram, load up what groceries I could, and hang a
basket on my arm as well to collect what I needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nightmare.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So I went to the frontpack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack liked this, but it would put him straight to sleep so I
had to be careful with our outings if I was working around nap times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jack never was small or light, so a
frontpack also proved to be a strain on my back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as Jack was old enough to hold himself up, I had
him propped up with blankets and a purpose-made cover for the shopping
trolleys.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He LOVED sitting up in
there, seeing all the people go by and being able to chatter away to me all the
time as we cruised the supermarket aisles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is one of his more preferable modes of transport.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there is more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Theres the trike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is probably Jacks favourite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>With guards to stop him falling out, foot pegs to rest his legs, and a
handle for Servant Mummy/Daddy to push him round, he thinks this is the
greatest thing ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trike
goes everywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Around the block,
to the pond to feed the ducks, to the city for department store shopping.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We do have another little pushchair, which we purchased for
my trip to Canada with Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
Jack makes it clear to me that he doesn’t like prams much at all, and he would
appreciate it if I would put him in something else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being the hopelessly spineless mother that I am, I hastily
oblige.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Going through airports,
Jack would be tucked up in the front of the luggage trolley as his pushchair
lay folded amongst the suitcases.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then there’s the Blue Streak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A plastic box secured onto a tray with 4 wheels (like a
mechanics slider) with a handle attached, this was a DIY wagon type of device…
on a cool evening, Jack likes being bundled in blankets and pushed up the road
to meet his daddy coming off the bus before dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On his first birthday, he got a big John Deere wagon that
fits all the children of the neighbourhood and then some.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we left for our beach holiday in Noosa
after Jacks birthday, I insisted Nathan put this massive wagon into our
pocket-sized car so we could take it with us, as I was sure Jack would enjoy
this most.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan looked at the
wagon, looked at the hatchback space, looked at me, and just shook his
head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“It’ll fit!” I cried.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“No, it wont” he calmly said. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Well take off
the front axle and handle and it will fit”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
want me to bring the whole tool kit with us too?” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Just a spanner and a screw driver, honey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come on, be a sport”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Isn’t his little pushchair and his trike enough?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“NO! He will LOVVVVVE the wagon. It will be perfect!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The wagon did not fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Axle or no axle, Nathan dutifully demonstrated to me that the wagon was
ginormous, and the car was not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“ok.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe you now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just had to see for myself it
wouldn’t fit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can pack the
trike and pushchair now. Thank you.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Pretty sure he was shooting daggers in the back of my head
as I walked back into the house.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The point I am trying to make here is that I had the best of
intentions before Jack was born, but it all gets thrown out the window once you
have that little package of perfection staring at you with needing and loving
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Minimalist my ass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His Royal Highness requires more than
the bare minimum, thank you very much!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A one year old shall have no less than 6 or 7 modes of transport at
their disposal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At this rate he
will have a motorbike by the time hes 3, and a car when he’s 7.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And before all of that there will be
scooters and bikes and pogo sticks and skateboards… God help me!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am curious to know if other mums are disappointed with the
lack of use they got out of their fancy dancy prams which we thought were the
be-all and end-all at the time of purchase……</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So in closing, after 12 months of transport-transitioning,
now Jack is walking<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- and so as
far as he’s concerned, he doesn’t need any type of carrier at all – he insists
on using his own two feet to toddle about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If only he would walk the way I want to
go instead of running in the opposite direction…. Oh the joys. Bless him.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-72260112926450421792011-10-08T16:55:00.000-07:002011-10-08T16:55:56.929-07:00Keeping the spark alive... and winning 50 bucks
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
They say that mums and dads need to get out on a regular
basis to keep the “spark” alive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let me tell you what this led to last Friday night.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nana is in town visiting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is obviously a free-pass for a night out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we had planned on a movie, there
was absolutely nothing playing, so we opted for some grown-up fun in the
city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m thinking, drinks and
dessert at a nice restaurant, followed by a wander round the casino.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What to wear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For Nathan, its easy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
picks 1 of the 2 pairs of jeans he knows I will approve of, plus 1 of the only 2 shirts acceptable for the occasion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For me, you would think it would be a
bit more complicated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
isn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take off my sweats that I
was cooking dinner and doing Jacks “nighttime routine” in, and put back on the
clothes I was wearing earlier in the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Going through the closet to pick something fresh and glitzy is out of
the question as I feel I might need toothpicks to prop my eyes open, and wonder
what on earth is going to make me come alive once we get into the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So with some black tights and a
semi-long patterned tight dress/shirt thing, I thought I looked fine to head
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh.. shoes…. Can I just wear
my flip flops?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No… we’re going to
the casino.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Has to be nice
shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Damn Brisbane and its high
standard of dress code.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pick a
plain black lifted wedge that look like they belong to an old lady, but no one’s
going to be checking me out given the sweater I am wearing over my whole outfit
which can be described as nothing other than frumpy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t care. It’s cold outside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus I’m having a good hair day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That trumps my average outfit choice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re driving to the city.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I rest my eyes and try to relax, knowing that Jack is asleep
and in good hands with my mum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
consider turning my phone off, which may stop me checking it for messages or
missed calls every 3.5 minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Who am I kidding….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After spending ten minutes going in circles, we find a car
park and head up to street level, stepping out into the bustling Queen Street
Mall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So busy!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What are all these people doing
out??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do they all have their
mothers visiting as well, staying at home babysitting the sleeping
children??!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whats that?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Life before children?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t recall such a time…. I miss
Jack….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nathan and I decide we are not hungry yet so we head
for the casino, but not before ducking into some shops to gawk at the price of
crocs, buy souvenirs for my dad,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>and hunt out a pharmacy to take action on blister management – as I’m
already starting to hobble in these effin shoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>$10 for a box of band aids?! Are you kidding me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These better last me a string of “going
out” nights for years to come.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We get to the casino.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I head to the bar and order a martini, my only drink of choice these
days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is an amazingly
attractive blonde standing next to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her legs are long and golden, her hair thick and shiny, her teeth white
and glowing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is wearing a
short skirt and a low cut top, revealing a rack I very much envied – I won’t
lie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a guy chatting her
up, and she stood there looking bored and unimpressed that he would have the
gall to approach her… and I just couldn’t help but think, “why else would you
dress like that, if not to get hit on?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Hell, I am about to hit on you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Come to the bar looking like me and you simply will not have this
problem ma’am, I swear”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gone are
my days of getting hit on at the bar, or spending hours to get ready for a big
night out, or splurging on a new cute outfit to go dancing in!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gone are the days of my youth!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why did we do that, anyways? Was it the
thrill of meeting someone new??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The footloose, fancy-free feeling of being out with the girls??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The exhilliration of being “where its
at” with the “in crowd”?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listen to
me, what an old nanna.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I sit by Nathan at the pokies, sipping my drink, wanting
only to be his lady in waiting and not have to think about a lot, I know the
gears are fiercely turning in his head as he tries to determine the inner
workings of these money-eating machines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We people-watch together, trying to guess the story of one person or
another, especially the no-less-than-90 year old woman with a zimmer frame who
is in the basement of the casino determinedly making her way to a slot machine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is asian, which isn’t that much of
a surprise – I’m not sure why but there is an extraordinarily high percentage
of asian people within the casino.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t know, maybe this is a reflection on the percentage of Asians
among the general population of Brisbane?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Surely not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The night goes on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan wins a bit of money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get bored and start to play the machines too, and then get
bored of that and give my winnings to Nathan and meander back to the bar for
Martini #3.. or was it 4?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyhow
it was enough to make me want to start having small talk with strangers – which
is what my dad does, to which I roll my eyes and accuse him of being old and
weird.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I get Nathan another beer – the wrong type, I realize when I
get back to him – doh!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If only
women didn’t have such small brains.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nevermind. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We leave the casino eventually, with more money than what we
went in with, I will proudly add.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That’s my man!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew he
would beat the system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if it
was only $50 or so…..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyways my
ambitions of a sophisticated cheese platter or decadent dessert accompanied by
a liquered coffee have now faded to a hankering for 3 or 4 cheeseburgers from
McDonalds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We backtrack through
Queen Street Mall, shoes in my handbag by now – thankfully, and I am reveling
in my merry state of bliss as I sit with my favourite person, doing the most
simple thing in the world, loving him as much and for all the same reasons as I
did way back when.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And as we travel back into the suburbia that is home, I
think, yes – I love him for all those reasons I did in the first place – but
there is more now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s the
fact that he’s Jacks Daddy – and I think I love that more than anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I don’t need to go out once a week
and spend lots of money and get dolled up and be away from our happy little
home in order to keep that love buzzing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love him THIS much each night when he walks in the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we wake up in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he walks out of Jacks room after
giving him a bottle and putting him to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t believe an adults night out is a necessary way of
keeping the romance……… however given the level of amusement (and unexpected
wealth!) it brought about, I wouldn’t rule out doing it again…..<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>;) </div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-9075838215439504892011-10-01T20:39:00.000-07:002011-10-01T20:39:49.832-07:00A thought about Rugby. Yes, I said Rugby.
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I knew last night that I wanted to write a post about rugby,
and coincidentally there has been a devastating announcement this morning
concerning the All Blacks that only adds fuel to my fire.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are now going to hear my opinion on something I know
nothing about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know the
rules of rugby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what
causes a penalty, I don’t really know what a conversion is, and don’t know when
or why they scrum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t
understand why the game often keeps going past the 80 min mark, and am not even
sure what points are granted for a try or a kick or whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet, somehow, the game is still
important to me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me tell you
why.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As a Canadian raising a son who will be a kiwi, rugby is my
new hockey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can see how the
shining stars of the All Blacks are such important role models for our sons and
daughters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think the All Blacks
are even more significant to NZ than hockey teams are to Canada, though,
because its such a small country to be having such a tremendous impact in the
global sporting community<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>– they
are world champions without a doubt in the game of rugby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And, really, its hardly a game but more
like a religion to the majority of the population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mood of the media and social network populace fluctuates
in direct proportion with the ups and downs of the beloved AB’s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>NZ, with their modest population of 4
million, are given a certain amount of respect and regard due to the status of
their famed rugby team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its
something that helps a tiny but wonderful place get showcased to the rest of the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It puts them on the
map.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On one hand, NZ is a gem that
might be best left undiscovered by the masses, but on the other hand they rely
on the influx of international tourists to keep the economy afloat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Amazingly, the AB’s play a big role in
this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are invaluable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The All Blacks, for those that don’t know, are a force.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are more than a physical unit made
up of blood, sweat, muscle and grit – they will move you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The passion with which they play the
game is enthralling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not one
for promoting idolization, but it wouldn’t worry me in the least if Jack grew
up wanting to “be an All Black” – what that institution inspires into young
people is comparable to almost nothing else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The rugby that I speak of is a rugby that involves Carter
and McCaw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m very new on the
scene in regards to historic figures and monumental moments – and I know the
game has changed since “back then”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yet I have nothing to compare it to, and can only judge by the impact
they have in the here and now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes, the game tends to get marred by salaries and egos and endorsement
contracts etc, but all that aside I think they play for the right reasons and
this shines through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the light
of the media, the perceptions of Richie McCaw and Dan Carter are unflawed and unrivaled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They never step out of line, are
extremely diplomatic, level headed and fair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They stay cool and calm in tense situations, and what you
can see in their eyes – the determination and raw desire – is enough to send a
shiver down your spine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As the
Rugby World Cup plays on, I am learning more about other players and also about
tactic and game endurance.. but I have a long way to go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Jack will have a lot of rugby influence in his world growing
up as a kiwi kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will play it
at school.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will learn the
haka.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has two uncles and a
grandfather that payed serious rugby – in fact one of his uncles still
currently plays for a team in England.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He has a gleaming reputation as a good kiwi bloke, no doubt, and will be
loved for his ties to the homeland of the All Blacks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s the thing about kiwi guys going abroad to play rugby
– they have had that advantage of growing up in a nation where so much funding
and focus is pumped into a single sport so they are almost guaranteed to excel
in the game on an international level. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We watch the games religiously at home here in Australia on the telly. I have
an appreciation for the importance of the All Blacks’ win in any game, as I see
it as a morale boost for the whole of the country, thus being a result for the
greater good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And Nathan is able
to watch the game and intricately scrutinize plays and tactics, thus making him
more of a realist than me, which will be good for Jack rather than just my
influence of blind hope for a big win.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now, do I want Jack to play rugby?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to watch him get tackled on a field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want him getting concussions,
torn ligaments, fractures and cauliflower ears.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want him to develop a huge ego, or leave me to go
play rugby somewhere else (GOD FORBID)…. So, no, I don’t particularly want Jack
to play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would rather he pursue,
say, chess. Or perhaps even swimming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Anything non-contact, thank you!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But as I said before…. If Jack looks up to athletes with an amazing work
ethic, determination and perseverance, I can’t complain too much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If there’s one thing that’s attached to
the stigma of being an All Black, its that hard work and lots of practice pays
off. In fact, I wouldn't hesitate to use it as a form of bribery throughout Jack's childhood. "All Blacks eat their wheetbix. All Blacks eat their vegetables. All Blacks do their homework on time. All Blacks dont play too much nintendo." you get the picture.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, as I write this blog, the All Blacks are currently
playing Canada on a live tv broadcast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Canada scored the first points, and this only mildly amused me – I still
have full faith in the All Blacks even though they have lost their two most
valuable players for this match – Carter and McCaw, and Carter is actually out
for the remainder of the RWC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
mood in NZ at the moment is tense.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We are all the way in Australia and it’s affecting us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Admittedly, I felt on-edge all morning
while digesting this news about Carter, as I think it will break my heart if it
negatively impacts the outcome for the team in this tournament.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The papers, Facebook and Twitter are
plastered with nervous and panicked headlines and comments, with the odd
hopeful optimist shining through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I got in trouble on FB this morning for slating the All Blacks as
Partial Blacks after the announcement of Carters injury – and rightfully
so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should not have jumped on
that negative bandwagon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However
the statement was a true reflection of the importance of that particular player
to the team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hes not the whole
team, but hes the single most important person, according to most people,
including some retired rugby greats who were commenting on the issue. But the team deserve more credit than this. Shame on me.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So from here til the final, lets continue to support the All
Blacks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do it for Dan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do it for Christchurch. Do it for
NZ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do it for Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Cause everything revolves around
Jack).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just do it, guys, cause its
more than just a game!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the
livelihood of a nation, the expectation of the people, the hope of the fans,
the yearning of the youth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For so
many reasons, they need this cup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lets
put our faith where it belongs! GO AB’s.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-34350667288377822132011-09-20T16:25:00.000-07:002011-09-20T16:25:04.027-07:00Birthday Parties
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This weekend I had the pleasure of attending my first
children’s birthday party for one of Jacks little friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was lovely – a day at the park with
an easy BBQ, a couple of games for the kiddies, cake, and beer for mums and
dads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since Jack is having a birthday of his own in a few days –
his first one – I figured I better make some observations about what was being
organized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I liked this party
because the parents were well organized without going overboard or spreading
themselves thin to throw an extravagant party, yet I realize the extravagance
of a childs birthday party can fall anywhere on a wide spectrum of “easy” to
“way over the top”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Birthday parties can involve soo many excesses …. You have
the cake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The cupcakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The nibbles and snack foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The entertainment for children and
parents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The PARTY BAGS (big peeve
of mine).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Venue hires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clowns and bouncy castles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh my the list goes on and on!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m no party pooper and I want my child to have a lovely
birthday as much as the next parent, but it is just far too easy to cross that
line and create way too much work for yourself!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its enough to make the cake in the days leading up to the
party, and prepare food and activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And you want to tailor the theme / activities to the actual birthday
boy/girl’s interests, sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But
where do we draw the line?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think that the more parties you attend, the more
complicated it can become because parents have this ridiculous tendancy to
“compete”…. Which not only puts undue stress on ourselves as parents, but it
also increases the expectations of the children attending the parties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the last party I was at, a wee girl
approached the birthday girl’s mother and asked for her party bag (loot bag)
when the party was nearly finished.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The mother hadn’t arranged such things, and she is from England so I
don’t know – maybe its not such a common thing there as it is here in Australia
– but regardless, it was a clear sign to me that this childs “party
expectations” have been set by birthday parties past, and in their little minds
they might be inclined to ‘rate’ parties based on these formed expectations!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Really, when you have a dozen children all at varying ages
playing together, its chaos.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
would like Jack to think it’s just an opportunity to play with his mates, have
a good time, and have some cake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Isn’t that enough for a young child?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For Jacks party, I know one thing: I want a “no presents”
rule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t think it should be
an expectation on other parents to spend money on a toy for your child just to
attend said child’s birthday party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think it’s a crazy notion, actually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that this is a hard thing to swallow because society
has it so engrained into us that buying presents is necessary… but I don’t
believe this to be true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Children,
for the most part, already have a toybox filled with a minimum of 183 toys (or
numerous toyboxes).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How is one
parent supposed to know what the birthday boy does or doesn’t already
have??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can you ensure you are
going to spend $20 on something that the child will appreciate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can’t ensure that!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as children get older and the
birthday guest list gets bigger and bigger, you just end up with mountains of
presents which, in my mind, diminishes the value of each individual present.
Less is more.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not saying I don’t buy presents, but I can say that I
don’t buy them very often!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I now
often opt to make or bake something for the child who is having the birthday,
as this has more meaning and often serves a purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot, for the life of me, buy something just for the
sake of giving a present!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has
to have meaning between me and the individual, or have a purpose it will serve
for that person.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If a birthday rolls around and I haven’t come across or
thought of such a thing, then the birthdayee gets no gift and only gets a card
to know we are thinking of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is not to say I (we) don’t appreciate gifts given to
our child – but there is an underlying guilt in both me and Nathan that other
people are parting with their hard earned money when they could be spending it
on their own families.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cards are another annoyance with Nathan and I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan thinks birthday cards are the
biggest marketing scam since Diamonds, and especially loathes Hallmark. (Poor Nathan... having his views and opinions aired and exploited on my blog against his will).... <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can agree with him – why do we spend
up to $7 or even $10 on something that is going to be either thrown in the
trash or shoved away in a closet somewhere after its been opened?? I still feel
there is a need for cards, as you want to have a means to relay a happy
birthday message (or any other message) and we are avid card-senders, but I
cannot pay $5-$10 each for them!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I first started working on my thrift policies (when we
became a one-income household), I thought it would be a good time to start card
making.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But HOLY cow… one or two
trips through a craft shop and you see that this is actually not a thrifty way
to do birthday cards. It can be an extremely pricey and time consuming hobby –
one that I don’t feel is fair to pursue if I’m not making money of my “own”…
but you CAN get bulk packs of cards which makes the cost of each card about $1
or less.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This has satisfied my
card-sending needs for now, as its more about the message you are putting
inside than what someone at Hallmark has pulled out of their arse.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, this weekend, yes, I will bake a fancy cake for
Jack.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we will have a little
party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m not doing party
bags, and I may not even do activities, given the fact Jack won’t be playing
them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we don’t want
presents!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am picking that no
matter what my principles are, as he gets older he will soon develop his own
set of “birthday party” expectations laid upon him by outside influences, and I
may be eating my words then, just to avoid disappointing him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask me again when Jack is turning 6
what I think a birthday party should involve…. </div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-28772036650777080042011-09-13T04:24:00.000-07:002011-09-13T04:24:05.633-07:00According to the gospel....
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">"But I want you to understand that the head of every man is Christ, the
head of a woman is her husband, and the head of Christ is God."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">(1 Corinthians 11:3-16)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;">"Wives, be obedient to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.
Husbands, love your wives, and do not be harsh with them."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Times; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"> (Colossians 3:18)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So, way back in my first blog when I was wondering who, if
anyone, is “right” on the matter of gender roles, well my question is sort of
answered:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am wrong, and my whole
generation is wrong!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we shall
all be damned for our betrayal of The Written Word.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Or something like that.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Given that Christianity is the cornerstone of Western
Civilization and all that it has become, the bits of scripture I have just
quoted made me feel a sting of shock when I stumbled upon them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have I been doing wrong by the
Lord??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does he expect all women to
be submissive and subject to their husbands rule?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or has the message been misconstrued over time to impart a
message that suited maybe a specific church or certain men in rule *cough*
Vatican *cough*….</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
It is irrelevant that you as a reader may or may not believe
in the bible, or God, or Jesus – and it is irrelevant that I certainly do
believe in such things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
matters here is the fact that the hold that the Catholic Church had on
civilization in the height of the papal reign has shaped our judicial and legal
system, our governments, and society’s expectations. I would go as far as to
say that conservatism is rooted in the bible and what it deems right and
wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously the bible has
less relevance to everyday life now than ever before in history, but its only
been a few short decades since the conservative attitude was the norm and the
fear of God was what kept people from straying too far from what was expected
of them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“And the rib, which Jehovah God had taken from the man, made
he a woman, and brought her unto the man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And the man said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh:
she shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
(Genesis 2:22)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
“…and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule
over thee”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>(Genesis 3:16)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Well its all very clear now isn’t it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Know your role, women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And don’t speak out in church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And do not do mens work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And keep your hair long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the list goes on…. My oh my how far
we have come.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Its been so long since I studied the bible, and probably the
first time I am doing so with any real interest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve determined that if you go to a Catholic School and take
religion class, they steer clear of any controversial topics or scripture that
may give students reason to dismiss the authority of the bible (speaking from
my own experience) and I think it was used more as a tool to teach right and
wrong and preach the popular parables without delving seriously into depiction
of specific scripture and its relevance to our daily lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Soooo… where am I going with this…. Well upon rediscovering
the written word, it has only reconfirmed my perception that gender equality is
never achievable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Men and women
were not created equal so how could we ever reach equality?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Men were made bigger, stronger, faster
– whether you believe in evolution or Divine Creation, this is true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women were smaller, weaker, oh – and
according to a library book I am reading at the moment Australia’s Greatest
Women, it was not so long ago that it was thought women actually had smaller
brains thus were inferior to men.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Laughable now, I know, since academically men and women can be equal –
but on so many other fronts we cannot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Why do we even <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">want</i> to be
equal, anyways??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shouldn’t we be
celebrating our differences and the fact that they compliment one another
perfectly to contribute to the blossom that is life and humankind?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
I don’t know if this is a relevant tangent, but its just
popped into my head so im going to talk about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women and beauty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I think its fair to say that beautiful women generally have an easier go
at most things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We grow our
daughters and teach them to be humble and abstain from vanity, but for
thousands and thousands of years the beauty of women has been celebrated and,
in some eras, (greek, pagan) women were worshipped for their beauty, intrigue
and allure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On one hand, I don’t
condone focusing on looks over smarts, but on the other hand why not celebrate
what you are blessed with – it is one of the many tools of survival given to us
by mother nature, after all! </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
So, another inconclusive blog by Yours Truly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more I let this gender issue roll
round inside my head, the more I am inclined to be grateful I have a son – it
seems so much less complicated !!!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If I have a girl in the future the poor thing may be bombarded with
mixed messages of Old Testament scripture, extreme feminism, and contemporary
ideologies of human rights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh,
but I suppose if I just seek out the opinion of the Head of the Household, the
one with the brains, he will have all the answers!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Goodness, silly me, worrying my little head with all these
complicated issues when I am merely a woman!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>;)</div>
<!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-20458243159164054102011-09-04T17:16:00.000-07:002011-09-04T17:16:10.917-07:00Going back to work <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>804</o:Words> <o:Characters>4584</o:Characters> <o:Company>ABB</o:Company> <o:Lines>38</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>9</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>5629</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">Going back to work....</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s not an easy decision to make.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a recent convert, I can honestly say that I grapple with the ethical side of it all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A part of me feels obliged to return to the HV industry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why should a company invest so much in my training, safety and career growth only for me to up and leave once I have a baby?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel as if I have betrayed ABB by using them for my fulfilled sense of livelihood and not giving them a good return on their investment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I naively persisted and bartered my way into projects, overtime, training courses and work experience opportunities, all the while telling myself and my manager that I was worth the investment – I would grow to be a valuable resource for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it hasn’t eventuated that way!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have left the industry, and who knows if I will ever return to service what I see as the fair terms of an employer-trainee agreement?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to be trained for maintenance switching, fiber-optic terminations, licensed to drive a truck and operate a hiab, trained especially to work on SF6 insulated switchgear, you name it…. Every little niche corner my division was involved in, I wanted in on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now that I am a mother, I can’t fathom being able to guiltlessly dedicate that much time to a career – not in the foreseeable future anyways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it’s a bit of a moral dilemma in that sense. </div><div class="MsoNormal">So with the liberties and the laws of equality come a sense of conviction and a whole lot of responsibility.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Companies are expected not to discriminate between men and women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are expected to offer equal pay, equal opportunities and rights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To hold back on promoting someone based on their gender would be grounds for a lawsuit these days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well now I am beginning to question the fairness of this….. wouldn’t any wise employer or corporation be hesitant to invest in a resource, if said resource happens to be a woman who is in her late 20’s or early 30s and just settling in with a new partner etc?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because the costs associated with losing a trained member of staff can really add up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s money down the drain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then you have to fill their role, often times temporarily, train that person, pay out maternity pay, and then the mother may choose to never come back (which is what I am contemplating now).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if she does come back, is she going to be able to be as committed as she was before?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most certainly not.</div><div class="MsoNormal">See, nothing matters to me now as much as Jack and Nathan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I had to work, I wouldn’t want a speck of overtime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t go away on jobs overnight or be sent away for weeks on end for project work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wouldn’t want to use my extra family time to do any training or upskilling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So as far as ABB would be concerned, I am pretty much useless to them!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">People ask me if I plan to go back to work when Jack gets older…. But the reality is that if I ever do go back to the HV industry, it wouldn’t be until I’ve had ALL of my children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(This is an ongoing debate in my house- I used to want 4, Nathan wants 2, so I say 3 is a good compromise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nathan still just wants 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently its not open for compromising. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can all start praying that my next pregnancy will be twins… thanks).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">It wouldn’t be fair for ABB (or whoever) for me to come back between children – they would have to continue to train and upskill me, then pay me maternity leave and deal with having a lost resource while I was away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Not to mention it doesn’t fit our plan for having a stay at home parent).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So by the time I have 2 (3) children and they are all of an age they are older and getting independent, we’re looking at ..what…15 years? If I have a third child in 5 years time and he is 10 when I go back to work?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whoa.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll be an old lady!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whos going to have an inexperienced old mum come back to the workforce then!!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">So now we get into that whole issue of mums who lose confidence when they are out of the workforce for a long time while raising children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It becomes DEcentive for mums to stay at home for too long because they will no longer be eligible for their jobs once young people come through who have more time and energy on their hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly I am generalizing here, and there are many different scenarios out there, but I don’t think I’m wrong to say these are recognized issues for many trades and jobs and the mums who do them.</div><div class="MsoNormal">So I suppose a part of me feels as though I have let my mentors down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And proved some people right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However all was not wasted in my journeys because there were a couple, if not a handful or more, of women who were somehow positively influenced or inspired by what I did. Just quietly, I did feel a sense of pioneerism in what I was doing in NZ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, I was the only woman doing my trade (as a high voltage electrical fitter) in the whole of the country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I met less than a handful of other women that were tradespersons while I was apprenticing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went to some workshops and even did some speaking at women-only conferences – and was asked to speak at a girls high school<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- while working in NZ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s something, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I still find myself wondering…. Have I taken more than I gave to the industry?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can thank ABB for nearly 100% of my quality of life – then AND now – and I feel like I’m left owing them more of my time and energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to rule out going back – because I know how much of a thrill I would get from being out there in the switchyards again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I don’t rule it out…. But wow is it ever a burden on my ethical conscience!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This blog is as inconclusive as my feelings on the subject…. </div><!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-54493535646471699692011-08-28T18:56:00.000-07:002011-08-28T18:56:19.612-07:00Choice and Chauvinism <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>1773</o:Words> <o:Characters>10108</o:Characters> <o:Company>ABB</o:Company> <o:Lines>84</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>20</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>12413</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I had a conversation with Nathan last night about the underlying theme of the last blog; he marvels at the way that I loved being a small part of a big company, whereas his mentality is to only embody that role as a working bee in order to reach the finish line – to get to a place where you don’t have to be in that position anymore, because having to go to work everyday stops you from doing all the other things you want to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I reminded him that he is what we call “accomplished”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He has a degree. He worked his way from the bottom up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He went from broke to secure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He built a reputation for himself for which he is now highly regarded within his industry (I can speak firsthand because I have on numerous occasions worked on projects with him).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His work has brought him opportunity on so many levels, and I think that this may be why he’s not in the same mind frame as me (or the former me that I was writing about)– not “chomping at the bit” to be at work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still had so much growing and achieving to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He mulled over this for a few moments… I’m not sure if he thought it was bullshit or if there was some truth to it, but it brings me to my next point.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I take this stance on traditional gender roles that I have been ranting about, I now must confess that I don’t think I could be praising my lifestyle choice in the same manner if I was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">expected</i> to do one thing or another, as appose to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">choosing</i> on my own terms what direction to set my life in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Granted, my pregnancy was a bit of a surprise, I still have personally made the choice to be a stay-at-home-mum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So as much as I now think that there are certain things men and women are just naturally destined to be doing, the feminist movement and the push for equality of human rights and liberties (which is still going on) was very important in order to have a sense of fulfillment in what I am now embracing as a full-time job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me clarify.</div><div class="MsoNormal">I think its fair to say that to become “accomplished” and feel a sense of achievement is a basic desire for both men and women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naturally, to have careers where we are on the up-and-up gives women this thrill and sense of fulfillment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Careers and babies could be interchangeable in that regard – in most cases one is as big a sacrafice as the other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For women who don’t have the “surprise” pregnancies, it’s a very hard thing to pinpoint an exact “perfect” time to have a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It often turns into a situation where the man is saying “okayyyyy….. are you ready yet??”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Because women are invariably putting off the death of life as they know it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to go ahead and say that I LOVED my life pre-motherhood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Had it not been for my unreliable method of contraception (stay away from iPhone apps designed for this purpose), I’m not sure I could have fully grasped the fulfillment that motherhood would give me, and thus I may have been in this situation.</div><div class="MsoNormal">I don’t think it would have suited me to be born in the 50’s where there was not much choice for women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were widely expected to be homemakers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>None of this “get a trade, find independence, then settle down” business.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe because I had the opportunity to have that fulfillment, I am content to settle into a new role in life.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I want to express my gratitude (to noone in particular – just sending it out to the universe in true “The Secret” fashion), for the freedom of choice we are encouraged to practice nowadays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is thanks to the “rising up” that women in western worlds no longer suffer oppression … (the third world is a whole different story, but that’s for another day)… </div><div class="MsoNormal">Don’t mistake me for a feminist – because that is one thing I am not…. However maybe it would pay to take a moment to reflect on how I have come to achieve such a high quality of life – without a doubt some tribute must be paid to the bra-less, brash and brazen women who drove a movement not so many decades ago which shaped generations to follow. Snuffing out the acceptance of chauvinism in society is probably one of the main things I have to be most grateful for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Otherwise I might not be so content to settle into the role of wifey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coincidentally.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have a partner who considers me his equal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He treats me with respect, and places no expectations on me at any time in regards to household duties or daily achievements etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He encourages me to pursue my hobbies and interests, and is appreciative for all that I do for him – even though I just consider it my half of the work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He never makes me feel as though I am spending “his” money, and certainly never implies that he has some sort of ownership of me because of his bread-winning status.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This may all sound obvious, however it was not so long ago that most women weren’t so lucky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were expected to stay home, raise children, cook, clean, and look nice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no importance placed on their desire, or “itch”, to see the world, learn new things, gain independence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In my travels, I have ducked in and out of different countries and witnessed varying levels of accepted chauvinism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Where I grew up, it was certainly not tolerated, and I never truly felt impacted by the disapproval of any man for what I was working towards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New Zealand was a little bit different – although I was dealing with more shock than disapproval.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are very few women in NZ taking on careers in “mens jobs”, however most men were accepting once I proved myself on the job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did have run-ins with a few characters…. I remember once looking around for a company to take me on so I could get some domestic house-wiring experience in order to complete my apprenticeship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called a company in Queenstown, and the guy on the other line was baffled about what I was asking for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end he came right out and said “look, I’m not going to hire you because you are a woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would just cause grief and distraction for my boys on the job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its not worth the hassle for me.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So that was hilarious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can think of a couple other men who didn’t want me to be doing what I was doing and tried to hinder my progress – but only a couple.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it always made me smug when I had some sort of personal success that I could somehow flaunt ….in a subtle manner, of course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">So then there was Eastern Canada.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a series of events I found myself in Ontario, where I was promised a job with a power company from a family member out east.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This didn’t pan out, however, so I was left applying for jobs all over bloody Ontario smack dab in the middle of the recession<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>- in a month when there had already been 60,000 job losses across the country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This led nowhere, but it did reveal that not everywhere in Canada has the same supportive and accepting attitude towards women in trades as Fort McMurray does.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know, a lot of “Sorry little lady, would love to help you, but I just haven’t got anything for ya”; with sympathetic smiles and tips of the hat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was shrugged off and snickered at and patronized in my face-to-face encounters while job hunting in Ontario.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">My next prospect was the opening up of a position within ABB (again) in the Asian country of Lao.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Naturally, I was all over this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A chance to go somewhere exotic and isolated and different, and a chance to get seriously stuck into my work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So off I went on what would be come the most life-changing adventure thus far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And just speaking in terms of gender roles, it was a real eye-opener.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The job was in a newly-built and yet-to-be-commissioned hydro power station deep in the heart of Lao. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were other women on site, but none of them trades people doing manual work in the field.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The station was swarming with hundreds of local Lao and Thai men, boys and girls – whose level of knowledge was indicated by a sticker on their hard hats – and I had to get used to them collecting into a mob around the panel I was working in and blatantly staring as I terminated wires or tested circuits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was creepy and distracting and would make me mad to begin with and I would try to shoo them off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were some Indonesian and Indian guys on site who would come question me all the time; asking where I came from, why I do this mans work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now, looking back, I can see their fascination/confusion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Growing up in a communist country, Laotians would struggle to understand the freedom I exhibited as a young woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Growing up in a country heavily bound by tradition and religion, Indians would struggle to understand my desire to be so adverse to these sacred things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The women on site and in the camp and the village were lovely and full of character and personality, however they were quite obviously never going to be straying far from their villages and their roles as women.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tradition is paramount in most non-first world countries and it made me reconsider my sometimes carefree and dominant attitude - as a matter of respect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">Now we are in Australia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Australia is interesting because it’s a fully developed western country just like Canada and NZ and US etc, but thus far I have observed a disgustingly high allowance of chauvinism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Its apparent in media, advertising, attitudes of politicians and citizens alike.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, the whole Australian identity sort of promotes it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not sure how I would get on trying to find a job in my field in this country… I suppose with international companies such as ABB there is a more mature approach in their hiring policies, but can’t see myself getting on with a local sparky bashing wires around Brissy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>……Maybe this has a lot to do with my love of big companies – they sort of have an obligation to protect the minorities, like myself – and to give the benefit of the doubt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ABB certainly did that for me in many instances. Bless ‘em!</div><div class="MsoNormal">(Note: I know I jump from past tense to present tense when I write, and I apologize cause I think its poor grammar, but it can’t be helped.)</div><div class="MsoNormal">Something just popped into my head – and its somewhat relative to my blog topic….<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I first applied to the co-op program to start an apprenticeship, my dad seemed really eager for me to go down this path.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">I guess for him, he could see that Fort McMurray was a rare gem – tons of opportunity for the bright young locals who chose to seize it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said “Yes my dear – get a trade – once you have that ticket in your pocket noone can take it away from you, and you can go anywhere in the world”……. In hindsight, he was right – it has taken me so many places.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose a father wants nothing more than a world of equal opportunity for his little girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank goodness he (and mom) instilled in me the confidence that I have – as it armed me for all the surprises I would face once leaving my hometown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Equally, on the other end of the spectrum, I got wind of the much-acclaimed Dubai – where opportunity, jobs and money were abound – and I mentioned this to my Auntie (she has a name, but to me she is just Auntie).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said “when I get qualified, I could go work in Dubai and make tons of money!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She gave me a serious look and politely but sternly pulled me out of my naïve cloud of youth and into reality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Jennifer” (note use of full name… means she is serious) women cannot do such things in Dubai.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a highly conservative and religious country – it is illegal for women to even show the skin on their arms or ankles there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do you really think you could easily find a job on a construction site with only men?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not like Canada”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She emphasized a number of things to me with that statement… A. that I was naïve, B. that I was fortunate to live in a liberated, democratic, free country and C. that when you go somewhere you must, to a certain degree, follow THEIR rules.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As much as I believe in gender roles in the home which supports my decision to be a stay at home mum, I believe that every step of the road I have walked so far have been important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Women that step out of their comfort zones pave the way for tomorrows women, so they too may have a fair crack at whatever fulfillment it is they’re after. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This may, in a roundabout way, even help towards creating more happy and contented mums for our little angels… is that fair to say?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Next week I am going to discuss my moral and ethical dilemmas for the “work / stay at home” argument.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yours Truly…..</div><div class="MsoNormal">HVH</div><!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-73252977507376611542011-08-21T21:50:00.000-07:002011-08-21T21:50:54.582-07:00The Transformation - Then and Now <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> <o:Pages>1</o:Pages> <o:Words>1021</o:Words> <o:Characters>5820</o:Characters> <o:Company>ABB</o:Company> <o:Lines>48</o:Lines> <o:Paragraphs>11</o:Paragraphs> <o:CharactersWithSpaces>7147</o:CharactersWithSpaces> <o:Version>12.0</o:Version> </o:DocumentProperties> <o:OfficeDocumentSettings> <o:AllowPNG/> </o:OfficeDocumentSettings> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing> <w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing> <w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> </w:Compatibility> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--> <!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal">I'm going to use this blog to emphasize my transformation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the past couple of blogs I have marveled on how motherhood has changed me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I need to now delve a bit into the detail of my pre-motherhood life in order for the extent of my “change” to be understood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As I stated in the first edition, a lot of who I am is thanks to my upbringing and the ideologies of my generation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This propelled me onto a career path which was male-dominated, yet very much within reach for a young, ambitious, capable person such as myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This career further expanded my view that women and men CAN be equal in the workplace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was lucky enough to start out as an electrician in training with a massively supportive team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was never doubted, and my successes were always applauded and my enthusiasm was appreciated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This started the ball rolling for my work addiction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being in an industry where overtime was well within reach, not only was I feeding off the thrill that comes with a wealth of knowledge, but also the large paychecks that were landing in my bank account.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I couldn’t get enough of motor disconnects and reconnects, pumpstation maintenance and plant observation – all of which were a part of daily work on a maintenance crew in the Tailings division of an oilsands plant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I worked for a huge company, and loved the safe, secure feeling of being a small part of a very big picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal">A series of events led me to venture overseas to New Zealand, where I straight away picked up my apprenticeship from where I left off in Canada, and I was back in the game.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, not only was I working towards an apprenticeship that would undoubtedly promise me a rewarding career, I was doing so on the other side of the world – and there was sooooo much to learn, see, love, discover, and achieve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">inspires</i> me more than experiencing something or some place new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing fills me with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">life</i> more than being far away from home and figuring out how things are done in a different place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were times where I experienced feelings of isolation, loneliness; but this is to be expected when you leave your family, friends, your life, and everything that is familiar at the age of 20 and move so very far away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, as I said, I am in NZ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After dabbling in various fields of my trade, I found myself working as an Electrical Fitter – basically an electrician that does maintenance and fault work in HV substations.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>33,000 – 200,000 Volts, generally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was in love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what it was…. Well, actually, I do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the fresh air, for a start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The subs we tended to were often out in the wop-wops, outside the cities and towns, out in the country amongst the sheep and the wind and the hillsides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had subs that were right on the seaside; subs in the mountains; subs in the paddocks; and a few subs that were “in town” – but it didn’t matter because once you got up in the cherry picker or up the gantry or on top of a transformer, you were still with the wind and above all the normality and racket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We worked to strict safety requirements and even stricter time constraints - this made the work even more rewarding as there was a bigger challenge to get it completed. Every day I was pushed – mentally, physically, and most certainly emotionally – and to be able to continuously overcome obstacles in the field is completely empowering and gave an endorphine rush that would give most good drugs a run for their money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t matter if I was sweeping floors, installing new protection panel wiring, repairing a faulted transformer or replacing rusty bolts – every day I went home eager for the next work day to come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to work weekends, holidays, late nights and early mornings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not even kidding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had to tell people that I was money-hungry, cause there was no way anyone would believe I was just that keen to go to work.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Each day I arrived early; and that’s saying something, considering some days were a 3:30 a.m. start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No joke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was my opinion that apprentices should never miss a chance to show their ambition and enthusiasm… both of which I had plenty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cared about 50 year old transformers as if they were my very own cherished shoe collection or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was constantly wanting all the information I could get for each piece of equipment, and it pained my impatient soul at times to learn that some things can only be ascertained from experience, not from manuals or history records, or even hounding my journeymen til the cows came home.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I loved my freedom so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved that I was accountable to and depended on by next to noone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had flatmates in NZ who I was good friends with, but I very much came and went as I pleased, and loved this fact more than anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no family commitments, no social life, and for the most part no relationships that were worth mentioning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I went out of town for work sometimes 3 times in a single week, and sometimes I got sent away for work for days, weeks, and months at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Timaru, Westport, Greymouth, Clyde, Roxburgh, Castle Hill, Tekapo – all these gems of NZ were frequented by us and it was such a thrill to be cruising through the most picturesque parts of the country, and getting PAID for it!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Countless times I can remember thinking to myself, “I never want to give this up”…</div><div class="MsoNormal">My aforementioned flatmates had a child while I was living there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was a shining light in my life – she lit me up – she was a treasure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I loved spending time with her, seeing her grow and develop, and I loved how she completed their little family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I can still remember thinking, gosh, she is the loveliest baby in the world – it doesn’t get any better than a baby like this – but I don’t know if I ever want to have one of my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be tied down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be tied TO someone… be responsible for a family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The thought sent a chill down my spine, to be perfectly honest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Yet now here I am - the keeper of my home; a mum; nothing more, nothing less.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So it begs the question.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Is it timing?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it the biological clock?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You know, I wasn’t ready then, but I am now?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it a matter of fulfillment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having experienced travel, a sense of achievement, breaking boundaries and exceeding expectations – has this made me feel like I can now move on to get a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">different</i> sense of fulfillment?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Is it love?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Does falling in love with the person who perfectly completes you make you more baby-minded?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So now, one might be able to see how this is such a torment for me – to contemplate being a mum and being in the workforce is so overwhelming because obviously the work that I used to do was extremely demanding of my <i>time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>The one thing we can never get enough of. The one thing that being a mum demands the most. Clearly my circumstances are quite unique, however I know other mums can draw parallels with certain aspects of my situation and often find themselves debating how it can be done. How can we give 100% in both places – work and home? Damn you, society, for placing that expectation on todays women. Damn you, I say..</span></span><!--EndFragment-->High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-67187626515740782352011-08-15T02:41:00.000-07:002011-08-21T22:07:27.334-07:00The Gender Debate cont'd<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">Lately, I have been having to remind myself that I am doing half the work. That is, half the work that it takes to raise a family and run a “home”. I do half, and Nathan does half. But for some reason, Nathan gets paid, and I do not. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I struggled with this concept – still do – as I find it quite a hard thing to be spending “someone elses money”. Because of the circumstances of our living arrangements, I do not receive any parental leave pay nor do we get any government assistance. We live solely on what Nathan brings home. He is the sole bread winner. I, like most other girls of my generation, have been working since I was a teenager, and got used to having disposable income, and not being too much accountable to anyone for my spending habits. Now I find myself in a position where I have nothing of my own to spend. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not saying I have nothing to spend. I’m saying its not my OWN. A few other mums I have spoken with say that you get used to this feeling, and you don’t feel so guilty after a while. And Nathan is constantly reminding me that, even though its his salary, the money actually belongs to the “family unit”. His job is only half the work, by going to work each day to earn that money- my job is the other half – by running the household. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Now somehow, in all the commotion and ruckus of the modern-day revolution, the emphasis on the importance of running a household has been down-played and undermined. We are led to think that its no longer a full-time job, so mothers needn’t pursue it any longer as such. And if they did choose to do such a thing, be prepared for almost no kudos or admiration or respect because it is no longer enough to warrant it!</div><div class="MsoNormal">This, in itself, is absurd. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Here are some granted points for the opposition to this argument:</div><div class="MsoNormal">There are things we have today that we didn’t have in the past that makes a home run smoother. Today we have dishwashers. We have washing machines. We have disposable nappies. We have microwaves, electricity, convenience foods, and access to cheap clothing and homewares. Gone are the days of homemade crafts, goods, or even daily baked bread and the like. It just isn’t the norm anymore. So without all these time-consuming things of the past, what keeps a homemaker busy in todays age?</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well. I am learning as I go, but let me just note some observations….</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Someone has to put in the time to “keep up” with the housework. I quickly learned that there is no sense letting it build up on you – so it sort of fits in to babies routine like clockwork, if you want to stay on top of it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> It takes planning to put healthy, balanced meals on the table every night that suit both parents and baby. Meals with fresh food – no frozen foods or ready-made packet products, as these are often more expensive than starting from scratch! New parents learn very quickly that this all becomes a juggling act, and you have to get creative!! Babies aren’t at their best at “dinner-cooking” time…. So it is often wise to do all dinner prep (and all possible cooking) throughout the day. Babies don’t eat curries, extremely rich food, spicy stuff and the like…. So sometimes babies get separate meals to mum and dad. This means preparing “batches” of food for storing or freezing for babies requirements. An unrewarding act if, when presented with the food, baby turns his nose up and decides its not good enough!! Luckily, we don’t have that problem – our baby, so far, is a human vacuum cleaner – eats almost anything and everything put in front of him - bar eggs. He doesn’t do eggs. Unless you fool him with French toast. Yep I’m sneaky – Mummy 1, Jack 0.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Babies don’t just require food and clean nappies – they also need plenty of time, love, patience, entertaining, and fresh air and sunshine. These are the most important things about spending time with my child – and the reason for wanting to be a stay at home mum. When you put all these things together, it fills in the day pretty quickly.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In our situation with only one income, obviously it cuts down on disposable income that we were used to in the pre-parenthood days. As a stay-at-home mum, I am finding it my duty to do things such as: buy home brands at the supermarket. Know what’s cheap and whats not for any particular grocery item. Use cloth nappies to cut down on the cost of disposables. Hang washing outside instead of using a clothes dryer. Get handy with the sewing machine to do any and all alterations this family requires. Be “crafty” with gifts – it just gets too expensive to go buy presents for everyone all the time!! I have learned how to bake, how to cook, how to knit, hell we even started a garden in the back yard which I'm hoping, in time, will cut costs a wee bit on produce purchased from the supermarket. At the end of the day it all adds up…. So not only do we get a bit of savings from these little things, but its also rewarding to me to know I am having a positive impact on the “bottom line”. Which is ironic, because although I feel like I am creating savings, I am also the only one that spends the money in the first place! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And who would have thought that I, Little Miss Gen Y, Little Miss Independent, Child of the 90’s (as Nathan calls me), would become such a domesticated, old fashioned, frugal, strict mum! </div><div class="MsoNormal">And this is where I am convinced that its more than just learned behaviour. Its more like instinct. Engrained deep within me from previous generations. I now somehow feel a close tie with my grandmothers and great grandmothers – the ladies of previous eras to whom being a housewife was very familiar. </div><div class="MsoNormal">My mother, on the other hand, was not a house wife – she is very much a career woman – and I wonder if she scratches her head sometimes to see me reverted in such a short time into such a different person, habitually. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So, yes, Nathan earns a salary while I stay home and keep a house for him. It doesn’t get more real than that. Or boring, for some. But the more we play this parenting game the more I am convinced that we don’t need to reinvent the wheel. Families have been operating like this for centuries and I just think that it’s a wonderful and balanced operation – it just works. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Let me take this opportunity to acknowledge that some women have to go back to work to “make ends meet”. (we are lucky enough that we don’t have to do this).. And some women have to go back to work because they aren’t cut out to stay at home all day, every day. But for me, it has just come to pass that it all feels perfectly natural. Gender Roles work in this house.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Its true that I know how to use a drill, a screwdriver, a crescent, and an array of other tools to fix or make things. But in this house, building toyboxes and garden planters is unspokenly Nathans job on a Saturday afternoon while I spend hours in the kitchen baking or cooking up batches of baby food. I’m an electrician – but its Nathan that often replaces the lightbulbs or fixes the faulty electronics, while I do the cleaning and mend Jack’s clothes. I was a confident member of the workforce not so long ago, yet when asked by other people “what we do”, I wait for Nathan to tell of his role as an engineer, and then happily let the conversation drift without needing (or hoping?) to inform anyone that I am (was?) an electrical fitter… I am content letting people assume that I am a “mum”. Nothing else really matters, does it?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So in all my recent realizations about my true self, I am acutely aware of society’s expectation – and thus, the expectations of mothers upon themselves – that it doesn’t suffice to stay at home and raise your family. You must get back into your career; be somebody; make something of yourself! I have even heard people say “what a waste” about a young, successful woman that is putting her career on hold to have a baby. It is the ultimate purpose in life. We are all just animals, afterall. We have an ability and an instinct to reproduce. A woman has a womb for a reason – and should she choose to walk the path of domestic management as appose to business management, is it really such a pity? </div>High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1209962696180140140.post-39694793359695195832011-08-11T15:04:00.000-07:002011-08-21T22:06:10.238-07:00The Gender Debate<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I am writing this blog as I have many matters, points, issues and subjects to send out into the ether to be debated, disputed, agreed upon and pondered….. by anyone who wishes to do so. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I have an itch to cover the topic of “gender roles”. I have slowly been changing my opinions on my own principles, to the point that I have now done a complete 180. Having a child has both enlightened me and made me feel ignorant, and I now live in a permanent state of contemplation, wondering who, if anyone, is “right” on the matter of Gender Roles.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Having completed an apprenticeship and progressed on to become a qualified electrician, I am one who fully understands and appreciates the importance of gender equality in society, and more specifically, in the work place. This social liberty which we tend to take for granted in western countries was, for a number of years, the very key to my happiness, quality of life, fulfillment, and sense of achievement. </div><div class="MsoNormal">Now let me stop right there and say that, now, I am living a life which draws nearly no parallels with my pre-motherhood life – yet I am still managing to achieve happiness, quality of life, fulfillment and a sense of achievement. </div><div class="MsoNormal">This has confused and amused me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Society is seemingly changing more and more with each generation, instilling ideas in our minds that we are not defined by whether we are a man or a woman, but by who we are as an individual. That your strengths and weaknesses don’t reside in your gender, and that anyone can perform any career (almost) and have any sort of lifestyle. We are all different. </div><div class="MsoNormal">I grew up with this unwavering sense of confidence; believing that whatever my goals were, as long as I worked hard, they would be achievable. Never in my mind was there the idea that I wouldn’t be welcome on some particular job site or lack the resourcefulness to complete any sort of task at hand. Thanks to my parents and the mentality of Gen Y, I truly believed the world was my oyster and I deserved whatever I worked for. I grew up believing women MUST have careers. Women MUST be independent. Women must NEVER rely solely on a man for income or financial security. So I shaped my life by these rules, and grew a work ethic that was consistent with this mentality.</div><div class="MsoNormal">I got a trade. I felt the reward of a hard days’ work often defined by physical labor. I developed an insatiable thirst for knowledge. I became work-obsessed…. I loved my job and I wanted to know the ins-and-outs, ups-and-downs, loopholes, potential, and limitations of the industry within which I worked. I experienced the significance of camaraderie, learnt the value of a dollar, and at the end of the day was always rewarded monetarily by the hours I had put in. It was more than I could ever ask for…. Work didn’t feel like work – it was like an addiction. I never wanted to do anything else. Nothing got me going like a big ol’ switchyard – 220 kV lines; gantry rising into the blue sky; warm, humming transformers; massive hunks of metal containing circuit breakers and other protection mechanisms; and the list goes on… just talking about it makes my heart flutter. I managed to stumble into what was ultimately the love of my life – high voltage. (By stumble, I don’t mean literally – as that would be quite dangerous. I mean I unexpectedly ended up working for a division of my company that led me to this magnificent field of work.)</div><div class="MsoNormal">And then there was Jack.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Well, before Jack, there was Nathan – I better just clarify that he is the “link” in this picture; the bridge between past and present life. We met on a job in a powerstation, and now he is my provider, our protector, the “bread winner” – and I am a dependent, stay-at-home devoted mother of our sweet little boy, Jack.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And herein lies the conflict… the befuddlement and the perplexity which is thrust upon me as a modern-day “new” mum.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">You see, the older Jack gets, (and currently he is 10 months), the less fathomable it is for me to actually part with him. Granted, I have known all along that I would not have to go back to work in any hurry – Nathan and I decided before we even conceived this child that we want to raise him with a stay-at-home parent. Now, this idea when first impressed upon me by Nathan, was not taken very well. It was foreign to me; my mother worked, my Auntie worked, all the women close to me were career women as well as good mothers. I was taught that I should be independent, and so on and so forth. But over time I came to see that what Nathan believed wasn’t such a bad idea after all…. I just thought it was a bit unheard of in this day and age.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Anyways, I digress. </div><div class="MsoNormal">So I now have this child. And as I was saying, its probably because I haven’t had to “mentally prepare” myself to have him separated from me, but as other new mums with babies Jack’s age are having to go back to work, I seem to have trouble breathing at the thought of such a thing. My heart starts to palpitate and my throat starts constricting at the thought of being apart from my child for 8-10 hours a day. Its actually a joke to me – because I think if I were suddenly forced into such a situation, I would have a breakdown. Its incredulous. The most unnatural thing in the world.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">How did I come to stray so far from Miss Independent? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">This is my point of contention. I will sign off here, as to go any further will require a whole new length of blog reading, and I want to ensure the next “chapter” expands evenly on all the relative sub-topics being drawn up here, such as: society’s expectations, paternal instincts, why mums should stay at home (instead of dads), financial dependence (or, a loss of Independence), re-entering the workforce and its associated challenges.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It seems lately that there has been a focus-shift in the media; I am seeing more and more blogs and editorials that are questioning the “super-mum” expectation that society has somehow managed to come to accept. So what are the real reasons mum’s want to do it all…… such a complex issue that needs to be picked apart!</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thanks for reading.</div><div class="MsoNormal">Until next time,</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt;">Yours truly</span> High Voltage Housewifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08131255873837317195noreply@blogger.com2